


You Were Meant for Me

by atigerlilyangel



Series: Bound Together [2]
Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Imprinting, Misunderstandings, Werewolf Fights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-04-14 10:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 110,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4561458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atigerlilyangel/pseuds/atigerlilyangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nessie just got dumped by her long time boyfriend. Maybe now is a good time to tell Jake about her true feelings. Or maybe it isn't. This starts with the admitting of their feelings and continues on from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Kiss Full of Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is also posted over at ff.net, in case anyone has read it there. We're just cross posting it in the hopes of more people finding it. Hope you enjoy!

NESSIE

It hurt. So bad. I felt like I was spiraling out of control, down and down, into a never ending black hole. I pulled my legs up to my chest as another sob escaped me. I felt my mother's cold hand on my back, trying to soothe me. But I didn't want it. It didn't help. My mind was all consumed with the fact that he didn't want me. "Don't," I whispered to her, moving my shoulder to shake her off. I felt so inadequate right now. He broke up with me. He told me he didn't love me. He told me he'd been cheating on me for the past month with the bleached blonde tramp Monica. I hated them both.

Though I suppose it wasn't completely fair to hate him for not loving me. I know that I said it to him. But I'm not sure that I ever truly felt it. And either way the pain of rejection stung. Like Mike had said, I'd always felt something for someone else. Someone that I was sure couldn't return those feelings. He'd watched me grow up. He cared for me when I was a baby. There's no way that he could be in love with me. The sobs subsided to silent tears as I thought about my Jacob. But like I said, he saw me as a child. He could never feel the same for me. And Mike didn't feel anything for me either. Would anyone ever love me?

My mom tried to get me to talk to her about it again and I shook my head. "I just want to be alone, right now."

Bella seemed upset with my answer, but she begrudgingly left me to my misery.

When it had been hours and nothing had changed, I hadn't even spoken to them what had happened, I felt the tension actually permeating the air, taking over the house. They were beyond worried, which was proven by the fact that my dad seemed to finally say. "Call Jacob."

Jacob, since his imprint on me had never needed an invitation to come over. He was always welcome because of the affection I held for him. But he had never actually been formally invited. And I couldn't say that I wasn't glad that he was coming. If I was going to talk to anyone, I wanted it to be him. He was like sunshine. He was warm. And caring. And comforting. I could trust him with anything, even the insecure ramblings of a dumped teenage girl. I felt like I could keep the pieces of me held together until he got here.

JACOB

Wiping the sweat off my brow, I stand back and look down at the engine. That should've done it. For some reason, I'd been feeling restless all day and had decided to tinker around in the garage to occupy myself, but somehow it wasn't working. My nerves were still on edge, I just couldn't place why. Just as I'm about to hop in and test my work, my ears pick up the sound of the phone ringing inside. Immediately I drop everything and rush in to pick it up.

It's Bella. My heart stops for a moment as the first thing that jumps into my mind is Nessie. At first I'm terrified that something had happened to her, that that was the reason why I'd been feeling so off all day. Why hadn't I picked up on my instinct instead of letting it wait?

So when Bella explains about the whole deal with Mike, I feel relief flooding over me. We can deal with that. The very next instant, though, the very same relief is replaced by anger towards that jerk, and pain on my Nessie's behalf. "Say no more, Bells, I'll be right over."

Within fifteen, I'm at their place and practically charging in to see her. It still feels awkward at times, being around the bloodsuckers, but with Nessie here that feeling's always overshadowed by the aura of ease and serenity that she casts over everyone. Right now, though, that aura is distorted and all I want to do is get to her as quickly as I can. "We didn't know what else to do-" Bella begins, but I raise a hand to stop her. "Thanks for calling me," I tell her sincerely. For an instant, we exchange a look of understanding. Then she nods and before I know it, I'm upstairs knocking on Nessie's door.

"Ness?" I call worriedly. "Nessie, it's me. Can I come in?"

NESSIE

It's him! He's here! He actually came! Of course he came I chastise myself for ever doubting it. But then again he is a grown man. He has more important things to worry about than the drama of a child. I know I'm his imprint. But sometimes I feel like one day he might wake up and realize that there's more important things in the world than me. I mean he can't have that much of a life outside of me. I see him practically everyday. He even has his patrols scheduled around the times that he can see me. But still one day something has to be more important than helping a half breed kind of teenager navigate life. But his mere presence has some of the tension leaving my body and has me feeling a bit better already.

"Of course," I call to him, my voice still full of tears. I don't want to seem so silly in front of him. Crying over a boy I'm not sure I even loved. But I can't stop myself. It still hurts too much. I wipe at my eyes all the same and try to look more composed though I can't seem to see fit to pull myself even into a sitting position. I'm still lying on my side. And as he pushes the door open I avoid his eyes slightly.

"Thanks," I say to him, "For being here." I want to make sure that he knows how much his support truly means to me. His support is what makes me who I am. Without him I wouldn't be half as strong or brave as I am. My life wouldn't be rich. When he's in it, I feel like I could have anything I ever wanted. Like I could accomplish anything. Like I could even fly. I loved him.

I gestured for him to join me. I wanted him to wrap me in his arms. I wanted him to hold me. And then I could tell him about all the horrible things that had happened today.

JACOB

I'm relieved to hear her voice. At least she's talking - that's a good sign. When I open the door, I feel my heart constrict at the sight of her curled up on the bed, her beautiful eyes looking puffy, her smooth cheeks streaked with tears. She thanks me but all I can do is shake my head. Where else would I be when I live and breathe for her? "You know I'll always be here."

It does of course make me glad to know that she wants me by her side. Ordinarily, it would sting just a little because I know that she wants me here as her best friend and nothing more. But right now I'm not feeling that. I'm just happy that she trusts me and that she knows she can rely on me to be there for her no matter what. In two long strides, I'm at the bed looking down at her. She seems to be avoiding my gaze somewhat, but not in a manner that says she wants me to go away. Carefully, I sit down beside her before gently pulling her up against me. Then, leaning back against the headboard, I tighten my hold on her and plant a kiss on her temple.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask tentatively while stroking her hair. I want to know exactly what happened, but I also know that she's hurting and that this must be hard for her. There have never been secrets between us, but I've always left it up to her to open up to me at her own pace, and that still applies. As long as she knows I'll always listen.

NESSIE

"You know I'll always be here." His words wash over me. And they are spoken with such sincerity and care that I can't doubt their truth. Jacob will always be here. He was there to dry my tears when I realized Barbie's hair wouldn't grow back after I cut it. He was there to dry my tears when I got my first injury while tree climbing. And I wanted to pretend that I knew that he would be drying my tears for years to come. Maybe at our wedding. But I didn't need to get ahead of myself. He didn't even harbor those feelings for me.

He moved over to me and scooped me up into his arms, pulling me into his arms and I pressed as close to him as I could. His arms held me tightly, wrapping me in warmth. I felt safe. When I was in Jake's arms, nothing could hurt me. I breathed deeply taking in his scent. It was a mix of the salt water and surf of the beach and the woods that he spent so much time running through. Two of the best smells in the world. I lay there in silence for a long time, even after he asked me if I wanted to talk about it.

When I felt like I had been put at as much ease as I would obtain right now, I nodded against his chest, not pulling away from him, allowing myself to imagine that his hold on me meant more than it did. What to say first? "Today was awful," I murmured into his chest, not worrying about his being able to hear me, I knew his wolf ears would pick it all up. "Mike broke up with me," I told him, though I was sure that he already knew that. "He said..." I trailed off, lacking the ability to say the rest of it. I took a deep breath. I had to be strong. "He said..." I tried again and hated myself for not having the words. Now Jake would think I was in love with Mike. And I wasn't really. Not the same way that I loved Jake.

I reached up and touched his cheek, allowing him to simply see it coming from me, using my vampire ability.

It was sunny outside, at school. It was lunch time and Mike and I were sitting on a picnic table together. I leaned up to kiss him and while he let me, that's exactly what it felt like, like he was letting me. And when I pulled away with questioning eyes, he let out a sigh, giving a glance in the opposite direction.

"Ren, we need to talk." I'd always hated this nickname, but I had never wanted to share my family's, more importantly, Jacob's nickname, for me, with him.

"What's up?" I asked, not ever expecting what came next.

"I've been thinking about this for a while," he started and glanced away again. I followed his gaze. My eyes fell on Monica. What did she have to do with this? "I just didn't know how to say it. I didn't want to hurt you." he paused. "I guess there's no good time and no good way." And then he was completely blunt, as if I had no feelings. "I don't think we should be together anymore. I'm in love with someone else. And it's amazing. You pale in comparison to her."

I pulled my hand away from Jacob's face. He didn't need to know the rest of it. I had first said I loved him, things could be different. I could be different. And then he had mentioned that he thought I'd always loved someone else. And I didn't want Jacob to know that, even less that it was true. I couldn't take the you're like a little sister to me conversation that I was pretty sure would ensue.

Tears were in my eyes. He had said I wasn't good enough. That I paled in comparison. I snuggled deeper into Jake. "What did I do wrong?" I mused quietly to myself.

"Can I ask you a silly question?" I said to him. I didn't think it was silly, but I knew that the second he answered me, I would. He would answer in such a definitive way, a way that would make it impossible to argue with his answer. But I really wanted to know the answer.

JACOB

Resting my chin on the top of her head, I let her lie there in silence, pressed against me until she's ready to speak. The whole time, I listen to the rhythmic sound of her breathing, in and out, in and out... the beating of her heart inside her chest, the only heart that beats in this household, the one heart that has the ability to capture mine. It was always her, from the beginning, even though it was not always in the same way. When she was younger, if I had ever thought about her this way, I would've went to Bella myself and asked Bella to tear me to shreds. No, it wasn't like that.

Not before. But even now, I still don't know how to feel about it. After all, technically I'm from her mother's generation. What if I'm not just Jake the best friend, but Jake the big brother, or even worse, Uncle Jake? As much as I struggle to fight against my feelings for her, I just don't want to turn her away from me. I would rather deny my heart forever than lose my Nessie. I know it's selfish, but I couldn't live with that.

Finally, she pulls me out of my thoughts by starting to tell me about what happened, but she can't bring herself to say it all. So instead she settles for the way that's always seemed to work best for her. As her fingers touch my cheek, I see it all being played out. I can't help a slight pang of jealousy as she kisses Mike, but I push it aside in an instant, taking in the rest. Mike saying that they need to talk, taking her completely by surprise... and then, without the slightest bit of consideration, telling her that he's in love with someone else. I see the blonde girl that she shows me and I can't for the life of me see how Nessie could ever pale in comparison to her, or to anyone for that matter.

Once she draws her hand away, I look down at her and see the tears brimming in those soft, warm eyes that I love so much. "What did I do wrong?" she asks quietly, her voice soft and timid. If I could have my way I would break Mike's neck right now. But as much as he deserves a beating, Nessie needs me more. Gently, I tilt her chin up so that she's looking at me and seeing the intensity in my eyes. "Listen, you did nothing wrong, you hear me? That jerk wouldn't know a good thing if it hit him in the face."

"Can I ask you a silly question?" she asks.

"You can ask me anything," I reply with a smile, reaching down and using my thumbs to brush the tears off her cheeks.

NESSIE

He waits patiently for me to speak and stays just as quiet and still when I try to communicate to him the best I can what's going on. I wait for some sort of reaction from him and I get it when I ask what I did wrong. It's then that I feel his hands on my face, his rough skin against mine. I want to close my eyes and pretend like maybe he might kiss me after holding me, touching me so intimately, but I can't tear my eyes from his. They're so intense. And hold so many emotions. I can't even decipher them all.

He tells me that I didn't do anything wrong. Basically telling me that Mike is stupid and wouldn't know when he had a good thing in front of him. And maybe he's right. But it doesn't make the rejection sting less. And maybe Jake's just saying this because it's in the male family member handbook. Hell and the best friend handbook. But I know that the people downstairs and the rest of dad's family would say the same thing. So would most of the pack. But the way he says the words so passionately, it makes them hard to ignore.

"It's not even that I really loved him, but..." I don't know what to say, "He was cruel. And so dismissive..." words seem to fail me again. But there's no way to convey this without speech. I just don't know the right words to use.

"I wonder what Monica has," I bite off hostily. At the concern on his face I give a small laugh. "Don't worry Jake. I know she's not actually better than me. I just don't get it." But truth is, I know one thing that Monica probably does with Mike that I had always refused to do. She's done it with half the student body, so why not my ex-boyfriend. Though he hadn't been my ex the whole time that they'd been seeing each other.

I shook my head to get my thoughts back on track. "Okay, so back to my silly question," I said, leaning into him, his hands that were gently brushing away my tears that showed no signs of relenting soon. "Do you think someone will ever love me like mom and dad love each other? Like that to die for kind of love? The they are my world and without them I'm nothing kind of love? The kind of guy who would never dare to even speculate if I paled in comparison to another girl?" My voice cracks slightly. My eyes plead with him to say yes. And I wished I had the guts to possibly change everything and kiss him right now. But I couldn't lose Mike and Jake in one day.

JACOB

I'm glad to hear that she never really loved him, and though she could easily be saying that just to convince herself, I do believe it's true. I think right now, it's her pride that's more damaged than her heart, and that can be easily fixed. More easily fixed than a broken heart any day. Still, that doesn't make what he did any less hurtful. She begins to speculate aloud, wondering what this other girl has that she doesn't. I'm about to tell her that she shouldn't feel inferior to anyone when, almost as if she's reading my mind, she brushes it off. It's fair enough to wonder why, but I guess the majority of teenage boys are like that. They hook up, they break up, they move on. It's probably nothing personal.

"Okay, so back to my silly question," she says before leaning in slightly. I hold her closer, listening intently, wondering what it is she's about to ask me. "Do you think someone will ever love me like mom and dad love each other?" That gives me a jolt. And then she goes on to list everything that my heart feels when I'm around her, and when I'm not around her. "Like that to die for kind of love? The they are my world and without them I'm nothing kind of love? The kind of guy who would never dare to even speculate if I paled in comparison to another girl?"

I feel like she's just punched me in the gut and it takes all my willpower to keep the pain from showing on my face. But on the inside the emotions are tearing through me relentlessly. Still, I force myself to pull myself together for her sake. As much as I wish I could tell her how I really feel, I refuse to risk having her hate me forever. So I paste a smile on my face. "That's four silly questions," I tell her, tweaking her nose playfully. "Of course you will, Ness. You just need to be patient, and the right person will come when the time is right, probably when you least expect it." Tenderly, I reach down to tuck a few loose curls behind her ear before repeating, "You will, Nessie. I'm sure you will."

And hell, it sure hurts to know that that right person will never be me. That I'll be the friend in the background, the person to turn to when things go wrong, but never the one. It hurt when it was Bella, but that's rainbows and sunshine compared to what it feels like now. But despite how much I ache inside, my feelings for Nessie run much deeper than that. I would willingly suffer through any amount of pain in exchange for her happiness. I wouldn't even think twice.

NESSIE

As he comforts me, I keep moving closer and closer to him, my arms wrapped around him too now. Holding on to the one person who always says the perfect things, who always knows what to do to make me feel better, who just makes me feel better by being there. Holding on for dear life to the one person who always thinks the best of me. My eyes are still locked on his from when he pulled my face up to look at him. And for a moment when I ask my questions it looks like something might not be right, something might be wrong with Jake. He couldn't seriously be hurting that much from just watching me hurt and doubt myself. But, it's possible that he does. That the imprint is at work there. And this thought brings me some comfort. I would hate to know that I had hurt him by some way that I could control. I would never intentionally hurt my Jake. It also makes me wonder if there's something wrong with our imprint, if our magic is broken. All the other imprints are couples...or like in the case of Claire and Quil, struggling with emotions. But Jake seems to always just see me as his little sister. Not as anything else at all. I've never seen him struggle with his feelings for me. Not once. Even the magic that should bring me a soul mate isn't working right. Nothing seems to be on my side. Nothing but Jake himself.

"That was four silly questions," he says before tweaking my nose. And I can't stop the small giggle that comes up. It's such a silly, cute thing to do. Another way that Jake is perfect. He can always make me smile and laugh, no matter what with small, sweet, sometimes corny gestures like that. I listen to every word he has to say, ending with. "You will, Nessie. I'm sure you will." And then he tucks some hair behind my ears. And my eyes close of their own accord, my lips parting slightly, as I imagine Jacob telling me the words I long to hear from him. That he loves me. And then he seals it with a kiss. Just as soon as I have the image in my head, I let my eyes open and I close my mouth swallowing dryly and licking my lips. The fulfillment I would feel in the moment that that happened would be more than I could think I could feel.

"Thank you, Jake," I said to him quietly leaning up to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth, the closest to a real kiss that I dared. And part of me hoped that he would assume I had missed his cheek. Because nobody wants their younger friend putting the moves on them.

JACOB

I watch as she closes her eyes, seeming almost far away for a moment. I try not to stare at her perfect lips, that soft shade of rose, parted just a little almost dreamily. When her eyelids lift again I blink and shift my gaze slightly, hoping she didn't notice. She whispers a soft 'thank you' before moving closer and planting a light kiss just at the corner of my mouth, enough to knock the breath out of my lungs for a split second. But of course, it was a friendly kiss. After all, she might as well have said it herself, it was a "Thank you, Jake" kiss.

"There's nothing to thank, silly," I tell her before bringing my thumb down to the corner of her lip and pushing it up slightly. "Now give me a smile." She does, but I won't settle for I'm-feeling-better - I want her spirits up in the clouds, soaring. I shake my head at her, a mock frown on my face. "No, that's not good enough, I want a big one." Then sneakily, I reach down and slip my fingers just under her blouse, tickling her belly. It was never inappropriate with us, I never went beyond being playful. I would never forgive myself if I did.

NESSIE

He tells me that there's nothing to thank. And I'm left feeling awe and wonder at how he seems to care about me so selflessly. He seems so willing to do anything to make me happy. If I were to say right now that the only way that I would ever be happy again was if he learned to eat fire. He'd risk life and limb to just that. But the thing is, I don't ever need him to do anything special to feel happy. I just need him. I just need him around. And sometimes I wonder if I don't do enough for him in this friendship, or in our pretend relationship that we have in my head. He seems to always be here for me. But I feel like sometimes I selfishly take a lot from him and don't offer as much in return. But then again he doesn't share most of his adult, hard to handle hardships with me. We're best friends. But he doesn't want to burden me, at least not while I'm only nine years old, with truly complicated things.

He pushes the corner of my lip up asking me to smile, and though I still hurt, I feel like maybe things will be okay. I turn up one side of my mouth in an attempt at a smile. In a smile that tells him I'm feeling better, but that I am not yet okay. But he won't settle for small victories and little smiles. He wants me to smile wide. He wants to know I'm happy. The imprint makes him always want to have me smiling bright. And I know that it hurts him to see me in pain so I give a less meager attempt at smiling. Apparently it still isn't up to standards.

I let out a small yelp of surprise as he flips me over onto my back. Then his fingers are under my shirt. His warm, calloused skin tickling me. I laugh, loudly, my smile stretching across my face. I began to try and get away. I looked up at him and my eyes met his. And then things felt different. We'd been this way hundreds of times, but now that I really saw him as Jacob, the boyfriend that I wanted, this seemed like an awkward moment. I was acutely aware of his hot skin against my cool skin. My breath caught in my chest a moment. And I couldn't resist. My hand reached up and wrapped around his neck, pulling myself up and him down at the same time until my lips met his. The kiss was slow and tentative. But I loved the feel of his warm lips against mine. And then before I could notice if he was kissing back or not I realized what I was doing. I used my vampire speed to jump out of bed and move to stand next to it, pulling away from him. I'd probably just ruined everything.

I felt so frazzled. I didn't know what to say. I felt the blush creep up my cheeks. I hated the fact that I could blush like a human. My parents didn't, you could never tell when they were embarrassed. I was jealous of that ability of theirs. But Jake and dad always said they loved my blush. Dad said it reminded him of mom when they first met. Apparently she was a klutzy blusher back in the day.

I didn't know what to say or where to start. "I'm sorry," I said, my anxiety showing in my tone, "I shouldn't have done that...there's no way..." I felt more tears in my eyes as I waited for Jake to freak out about what just happened.


	2. Lost in Translation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nessie and Jake talk about how they feel about the imprint, with unexpected results.

JACOB

I grin in satisfaction as I get the smile that I want. I love the sound of her laughter. Like Christmas bells chiming. Like music. I could listen to her laugh all day long and not get tired of it. Before Nessie, I used to wonder how you could have your entire life revolve around just one person. What the other imprints were going through were just beyond my comprehension. It was just impossible to understand back then, and now I know why. You can never truly begin to understand until you're experiencing it yourself, this connection that transcends all things, even life itself. I remember feeling the pull for the very first time after she was born, just after wanting to lunge at her and kill her. But one look at her and everything else dissolved. And that feeling has never once faltered since then.

When she tries to squirm away, I slow down, quite sure that it had worked well enough. But then she looks up at me and time seems to stop for a moment. There's an intensity in her eyes that was never there before, a look of longing almost. And with it comes a spark, one that's not like anything I'd ever felt since we first imprinted. My brain keeps sending signals to my hands to pull away, but they're frozen in place against her cool skin and the next thing I know, her arms are around my neck and her lips... her sweet lips are pressed against mine. Fully. And it feels better than it ever did in my imagination. She's taken me completely by surprise and I find myself at a loss for how to respond. My first thought is that I should push her away, that this isn't right, that it can't be right. This has to be Nessie on a rebound. But every single fibre of my body believes otherwise, that this was destined all along.

Even so, I can't find it in me to kiss her back. Not when there is yet doubt in my mind. Not like this.

I don't know if it's because she's realised that it's not right, or that I'm not responding, but either way, she stops and leaps off the bed in a flash. I, on the other hand, have barely moved a muscle. She stands there looking at me with glassy eyes, a soft touch of pink diffusing across her porcelain cheeks. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice small and cracking. "I shouldn't have done that...there's no way..."

As soon as I see the tears coming, I snap myself out of it and hop off the bed, moving over to stand in front of her. My first instinct has always been to protect her, from any kind of harm, from any kind of pain she might even begin to feel. Gently, I place a hand on either side of her face, tilting her chin up slightly. What she did may have been impulsive, especially after what just happened today, but I don't want her to feel awkward about it. Not with me. Ever. "Hey, hey, it's okay," I tell her soothingly, wiping the tears away, though they seem more relentless now than they were before. "You only just broke up with Mike, and you're still hurting. It's normal to feel confused about things."

To think that she kissed me not because she really wanted to, but because I was just, well, there... that kind of stings. Because deep down I want more than that. I want her to love me as more than just a best friend, I want her to kiss me because she actually means it. But it's not about me or what I want. It's about Nessie and what's best for her. That is what's most important to me, more so than any desire I've ever had for myself. She's so young, still barely getting a taste of the world and all it has to offer. I could never imagine life with anyone else, would never even consider it for a second, but I refuse to hold her to that as well. It wouldn't be fair. She deserves to experience it all, like any normal girl should, not get tied down so early on in life just because of the imprint.

NESSIE

He doesn't respond. He doesn't kiss me back. He doesn't push me away. Even now, moments later with me feet away from him, he's just laying there. I couldn't have caught him that off guard, could I have? And if I had, if I had given him time to respond what would he have done? Would he have pushed me away, or would he have wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back? Would I ever know?

At the first sign of my tears, he gets up and moves quickly, closing the distance between us. A small voice in the back of my head says to step away from him, to pull away. That it's not good for me to tease myself with fake closeness, with things that I could pretend probably meant something that they didn't. But I crave him, his touch, his voice, his scent, his presence. And I can't pull away from it. I can't deny either of us that. He takes my face into his hand and tries to soothe me. He tries to explain away my behavior. He makes excuses for me. It's then that I realize he has no ideas what my intentions were, what my reasons were. I wondered if I should tell him. If I should just put it all out there and say that I was crazy head over heels in love with him. That I want to marry him, have babies with him, be there to hold his hand through the hard times, and celebrate through the good, that I want to be everything for him that he wants, everything he needs, until the end of time. That Mike had been the distraction, to keep me from paying way too much attention to the fact that I was in love with someone who couldn't love me back.

I gazed up into his chocolate orbs and reality crashed down on me. I could never tell him. He was looking at me with so much love and concern, but in the same way that my dad would if he were trying to comfort me through this. I studied his eyes and his face for a long time, looking for even the slightest trace that he might possess a fraction of the longing or desire that I did. But I found none.

It was then that I realized how cruel and fickle fate could be. It was the same as him and my mother. Only now I was the one destined to always be in love with my best friend. To be in love and relegated to the periphery of his life. Only there's nothing that I could do to shake him. I could never make him angry enough to get him to stop talking to me by threatening to become a vampire. And I could never disgust him into shunning me. As my previous actions had proved. And for the first time in my life, I resented the imprint. It was going to force me to watch the man of my dreams love someone else.

My chest constricted, like it was being robbed of its breath. Discovering that it would be practically impossible for Jake to love me like I loved him did that. His love was my air. And it was being quickly stolen from me. But even if I possessed the ability to get rid of Jake, I knew I wouldn't. Because living a life without Jake in it would be like living in the dark, an outsider, relegated to the shadows. I could live without air, but I couldn't live without the light.

My lungs were screaming for oxygen. I could hold my breath for longer than the average human, but not indefinitely. I was scared to breathe, scared that the air might taste different. That one breath in would be like truly accepting it. The loss of a future with Jake was profound. It felt like a hole had been ripped out of my heart. A hole that would never be fixed because Jake was the only person that could do that. I felt like I could just start sobbing and never stop. As it was this was a loss that I would mourn every day of my life, with his presence as a constant reminder.

I took in a slow, halting breath. I looked in his eyes again, hoping to see something different. It wasn't. So I turned my tear filled eyes away from his, and echoed his sentiments hollowly, "Yeah, I'm just confused."

And it was now or never. I could redefine us. I could change our imprint maybe. I could set him free. Free so he'll be able to find what made him happy beyond a best friend. I took a step away from him, out of his hands. "Do you ever feel stifled by it? By our imprint?" I ask him, hoping for an honest answer. I love him enough to do what ever it takes to make him happy, including making myself miserable by setting him free.

JACOB

She remains silent for the longest time, gazing deep into my eyes as if she's searching, hoping to find something. I can tell that she's holding her breath, like she's not daring to let the air in. I watch her with worry and concern as it seems like a million things must be going through her mind, things that I wish I could read so that I could fully understand what's wrong, until finally, she turns away, agreeing that she's just confused. But not wholeheartedly at all. Not even halfheartedly. She just sounds empty, and that emptiness echoes in my head as if it's my own, even more so when she pulls away from me.

And then she asks me something that I really wasn't expecting her to ask. For a moment I'm so horrified by her question that I can't even find it in me to mask the cringe that draws my eyebrows together. She might as well be putting a .38 caliber to my chest, except I don't believe a bullet through the heart could ever hurt this much. Is this what I've been really letting on to her? Is this the impression she's been getting from me the whole time? That I feel stifled by the imprint? By her? When in reality I love her so much that- no, let me rephrase that… when in reality, I don't just love her, I'm in love with her. Only I can't have her know that for fear that she might feel I'm forcing myself on her, like I'm her only option. Damn, why does it have to be so hard?

…Cullen, you'd sure as hell better not be listening in on this.

The very next instant, I wipe the look of shock and hurt from my face, hoping it had only lasted for a split second, hoping she had missed it. Because whatever internal turmoil I may be experiencing, I won't let it be her burden too. "Never," I answer her without the slightest hesitation, with every ounce of conviction that I can muster from the very depths of my being, wanting her to see that there's not a shadow of a doubt in that one word. She's not just some kind of obligation to me - I thought she knew that.

But as soon as my reply leaves my lips, it hits me, full on like a brick in the head. Maybe she wasn't really asking. Maybe she was hinting... hinting that she wants out. I realise now that Mike can't possibly be all that she's upset about. She liked him, definitely, and losing him dealt her pride a nasty blow for sure, but I also know that Nessie's much too strong an individual to ever let herself get so let down by someone who's hardly worth her time, much less her sorrow. There's more going on than that, and it feels like my worst fears have been confirmed. After all, isn't this exactly what I'd been worried about in the first place? That the time would come when she would start to feel smothered, as if the imprint somehow bound her to me against her will, as if she didn't have the freedom of choice that she's entitled to?

"Ness…" I say quietly, willing her to look at me again. "Is there something else you're not telling me?" It's not really a question. I know there is. Something's definitely bothering her and I'm almost afraid to find out what it really is. But I could never bring myself to be that selfish, not where her wellbeing is concerned. I love her too much and too deeply for that, more than she could ever know. No matter how much the truth may hurt, I need to know what's wrong so that I can help fix it, even if it means that I might have to give her up for the sake her of her happiness. It would kill me, but I would die for her. A thousand times over and I would still die for her.

It's bad enough that I simply can't bear for her to be upset, but to know that I may well be the cause of that just makes it so much worse. When she doesn't answer right away, it's then that I feel my voice crack slightly with the first hint of raw emotion. "Please don't turn away from me. Look at me, Nessie, please."

NESSIE

I couldn't bring myself to look at him again. I stared at the floor intently, studying the pattern in the hard wood. I couldn't bear to see the look in his eyes again, not right now. Not while I was still hurting so deeply from the realization of it all. Maybe in a few days I could take the look of an uncle's love shining out from his eyes, but I couldn't contemplate taking that blow again right now. I couldn't look at him. I just couldn't.

"Never." he tells me about feeling stifled by the imprint. I am so surprised by the emphasis he places on the word that I cut my eyes sideways to look at his face again, for just a moment. I missed his moment of pain, just seeing the fatherly love residing there again. The only love that he'll ever have for me. I can't stand to see it for long. Even though he cares. Even though he says that I could never stifle him. Even though he says he'll always want to be with me. I still feel like I'm suffocating. I still fell like I'm loosing. I still feel hollow and broken. I still feel lost. I feel like I'm lost in the world without even the potential of him being mine. I feel weak and helpless. And for the first time ever in my life, I feel that I am alone, with no one to turn to, because I can't explain this to him. I can't tell him, the one person I tell all of my secrets too. And I know that I will live my whole life missing a piece of myself because of it.

He asks if there's something that I'm not telling him. And all I want to do is proclaim that I'm not telling him anything. That I'm keeping everything secret. But it's too big of a secret. I could never tell. And besides if he didn't feel stifled by me and spent all of his time with me, then what did that mean? Did he want me? Did he not want for anything else? Did he miss that part of his life? Did he want to be in love and have a physical relationship with someone? It was just too confusing. I mean, it had to be that he wanted me, or that I was standing in his way of him getting what he truly wanted. Didn't it? Was there a third option? I couldn't see one.

As he begged me to look up at him, I felt my will to avoid his eyes faltering. He needed to know we were okay. He needed for me to assure him of that. He needed to see my eyes. And I heard his voice crack, real pain shining through. I couldn't hurt him. I steeled myself for the moment of our eyes meeting, for seeing the look I had been avoiding. And when I thought I had enough courage I raised my eyes to his. But the look in them was not the same. They were filled with such deep pain that I was floored by it. I felt the air leave my lungs and I think my heart stopped beating in that moment. I had caused him that pain. "Oh, Jake," I said quietly, moving back over to him. I couldn't not comfort him when he was so upset. I wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him close to me. Be strong, I told myself, Be strong. You can do this for Jake.

I again turned my head up to face his and faked a small smile for him. It didn't reach my eyes. I don't know if any smile ever would again. But I couldn't hurt him intentionally. "Jake...I just," how could I say some of what I wanted without telling the truth and without lying. "I worry about you sometimes. You're my favorite person in the world. And I love spending every moment I can with you. I'd never want to give you up. But sometimes I worry that that might be the problem. Because of the imprint you'll always be by my side if I want you to be and I would never not want you to be. But that's not really fair to you is it? What about your life? You can't feel completely fulfilled being friends with a child? And before...by taking care of a baby...I mean don't you ever want more?"

I didn't want him to think for even a second that I was pushing him away. I wanted him near me. I wanted him in my life. But I had to be fair. He deserved what he wanted too. I couldn't steal his life away from him.

JACOB

She looks at me. I feel myself let out a sigh, only just realising that I'd been holding my breath. When she wraps her arms around me again, I feel certain that we can work through whatever's going on, no matter how big or how small it is. Haven't we always? But then she looks up at me and the smile that I see on those lips isn't the smile that I know. It's hardly even there. It might as well not be there. She can fool anyone with that but not me. It seems like she's trying to get the words out, but she doesn't know how. Does she really want me to leave? Is this really it? Is this hug just meant to offer some sort of comfort leading up to the big blow?

But that isn't it, I realise. She really is genuinely worried that she's crowding up my life, that she's not giving me a chance to live my life, in exactly the same way that I'm afraid that I might be smothering her... "You can't feel completely fulfilled being friends with a child? And before...by taking care of a baby...I mean don't you ever want more?" But she doesn't understand that... I don't see her as a child. I mean, I do, but I don't. Part of me will always see Nessie in the sweet light of innocence, but that doesn't mean that I'm treating her like one... or am I? Does she feel that way? And the fact that I keep thinking about her as more than that, or wanting her to be more than that, really doesn't help matters...

She's wrong. In any and every way possible she's wrong. Even though the imprint works both ways, the space that she fills in my life she can't even begin to understand. But what if this is what she really wants? What if this is her way of asking me to back up, give her some breathing space? I can't live without her, but I can't live knowing that I'm causing her any pain, even if it's just a little discomfort. With a sigh I take her hands and unwrap them from their hold around my waist, my heart aching as I do so. "Ness, honey, you know better than that," I tell her softly. "You know I see you as way more than that. I love you way more than that." For a moment, I let myself say the word the way I really mean it, pretending to myself that she would see it for what it is... but I'm cheating myself.

"But maybe... Nessie, if you're starting to feel even the least bit... stifled... by the imprint, then..." Damn it, it's just so hard to have to say this. Someone shoot me right now. "Maybe it would be best if we both... you know, took some time out. From each other." Reaching down, I touch her cheek gently, savouring the feeling in case I never did again. "Of course I'll still be around if you need me, but I want to give you a chance to get out there too. To breathe. You understand what I'm saying, don't you?"

NESSIE

He reaches down and unwraps my arms from his waist. He's never done anything like that before. He's never pulled away. He's never pushed me away. He's always wanted me close. I wonder if I've pushed him too far. If maybe even imprinting has its limits. And if so, have I crossed them? Have I somehow done the one thing that could make me lose him forever? He tells me that I know better. And he's right. I do. I know better than to doubt his presence in my life. All I wanted to begin with was for him to either say he wanted a life...or that he truly enjoyed being with me. Although if that were true, I wouldn't understand it. How someone could be content being alone for the rest of their lives. But who am I to complain. His devotion would have been to me forever. Even if it was in a different way than I wanted.

"I love you more than that." He said, looking down at me. Love. That word was filled with such emotion, passion, intensity, that I almost responded. I almost believed it was what I wanted it to be. That he was in love with me. I almost said I love you too. But then his face fell, his body went slack, his light seemed to go missing as he continued to speak. "But maybe... Nessie, if you're starting to feel even the least bit... stifled... by the imprint, then..." But I don't feel stifled by it. I want to scream that I don't feel stifled by it. Even if it means that I always pine after my best friend, I don't feel stifled by it. I love the imprint. Really. It gives me Jake, all of Jake, completely selflessly. "Maybe it would be best if we both... you know, took some time out. From each other."

He reaches down to touch my cheek and I turn into the caress, afraid of what will come next. I memorize how he smells, the heat radiating off of him, the feel of his skin against mine. Because I am afraid that I have done it. That I've pushed him away. That he's about to deliver the final blow to us. That I'm going to lose him. That things will never be the same. "Of course I'll still be around if you need me, but I want to give you a chance to get out there too. To breathe. You understand what I'm saying, don't you?" And there it is. The fatal blow to our relationship. He's saying it. He's finally telling me that he does want more. That I'm not enough. He's saying he wants me to look for more. But I already know that there is nothing better than Jake. "Jake..." I want to tell him that I don't want this. I want to beg him to stay. I want to tell him that things got so confused somewhere along the way. I want to tell him that I can't bear to not have him around. I want to tell him the truth, consequences be damned. I want to touch him again. I want to hug him. I want to convince him to stay. The pain on his face echoes the pain that I feel inside. Leaving me is hurting him. And he thinks I think he's stifling me. Would this ever be fixed between us? But maybe it only hurts him to walk away because of the imprint. Maybe this is what he wants to.

"I didn't mean to hurt you..." is all that I say instead of all the things I want to say. And then I let him go. I take a few steps away from him and we seem to study each other for a long while, like we're each waiting for a different outcome. Finally I speak to him again. "I understand," I whisper. I'm not sure when we'll talk next. I'm not even sure if I can stay away, so I don't say anything pertaining to that.

He gives one small nod and gives me that lightless look again. And that devastates me. I want to give him his light back. All I'd have to do is say that I didn't want him to go. But I can't hold him down with that, so instead, I give a small wave, trying to be strong, to keep from breaking in front of him. Trying to keep things friendly and struggling for lightness. He leaves, closing my door behind him and I wait until he is out of ear shot to slump to the floor, unable to even hold my body up as the sobs rack through me. I already miss him.

JACOB

Part of me is willing her to tell me to stay... that maybe right now, at the time when our relationship is at its most desperate stage, she'll somehow hear me by means of whatever magic holds us together. But it's not enough. My wanting to stay is not enough. My wanting her to want me to stay is not enough. She has to want it herself - and if there's even a hint of doubt in either of our minds, maybe it just doesn't work. Maybe our imprint really is flawed... maybe the celestial committee got it wrong this time. Has all our time together, all the years, come to this? If I walk away now, will she ever let me back in? Or does time out mean forever? Is that the way she wants it to be?

If that happens... if this spells the end of things for us, then I hope that at least her happiness will result from this. Then it would be worth it, it would all have been worth it. Because that's all I live for, all I breathe for. She was never a burden to me, never the slightest bother to me, never something I could ever view with resentment - on the contrary, Nessie was everything sweet and good in my life, compressed and compacted into a single entity. Perhaps I got more out of the relationship than she ever did. But I could never bring myself to regret anything that we've been through together from the moment she was born, anything, unless I knew that I had ever unwittingly brought harm or pain to her.

Closing the door turns out to be one of the hardest, most painful things I've ever had to do. It makes it feel final, like I'm not just shutting the door on her but on everything we've ever shared. As I make my way downstairs, there's a throbbing in my head and an aching in my chest that just seem to keep getting stronger and stronger, almost as if by a mind of their own, intent on taking me down. On my way out, I receive a menacing glare from Cullen, but even worse is the horrified look on Bella's face, as if I'd betrayed her. She had, after all, asked me to come to make her daughter feel better. And I'd gone and done the exact opposite. But I can't bring myself to say a single word, not even to utter a whispered apology. I just feel drained, like I've been stripped of my life force. The one consolation I have is that I'm giving Nessie a chance, a chance to live, a chance to be. And if I have to suffer for it, then so be it.

The moment I'm outside, I burst into a run, and the tears that I could never let her see start to blur my vision. Once I'm far enough away, I phase into the one true form that I've always found solace in, but for the first time I find nothing there. Just emptiness. Because this, who I am, is both the blessing that brought me Nessie and the curse that's threatening to steal her away. Or may already have.

As I feel my heart shatter into a million pieces, I let out a long, dismal howl into the distance.


	3. Eight Days, Twelve Hours, and Thirty Minutes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two try to adjust to life apart.

JAKE

It's been a week. A week since I last saw her, last heard her voice. No, not a week. Eight days and twelve hours. Make that twelve-and-a-half hours. Eight days, twelve hours, and thirty minutes since I last spoke to her, and I could give you the seconds too if you wanted. It's been that long and she hasn't called. Not once. I know it was my suggestion that we do this, but I only did it with her wellbeing in mind, yet until now I still don't know if it's done her any good. Or bad. Knowing that she doesn't want me near hurts, but not nearly as much as not knowing how she is. Because I always have. I've always known.

I've never gone this long without her before. The last week I've been all but an empty shell, going through the motions, constantly wondering… is she happy now? Has she finally found what she's always wanted, deep down? Is that why she still hasn't called, because she's busy moving on, or is it that she's waiting for me to call? Does she want me to call? Should I? Would she answer? Would that just make things hard for her?

"Hey, will you stop being such a girl already. Time to go," I hear Paul say impatiently. It takes me a minute to register what he means by 'go'. Go where? Patrolling. Right. Time to go. I'm up, I'm up, Paul. As I start to get up, he grumbles, "You'd think he'd be over it by now." As if he doesn't understand the power of the imprint, the strength it can give you and the strength it can also take away from you in the absence of the one you're bound to. Yet somehow, I also refuse to believe that it's just that. Somewhere in my core is a cord that ties me to Nessie, one that transcends the magic of even the imprint itself. A cord that holds in its interwoven fibers my very love for her.

Only now it's a broken cord - she's not on the other end.

I try to scowl but I can't even manage that. This hollowness is just eating away at me alive, slowly breaking the surface of my skin, chewing straight through meat and flesh, gnawing mercilessly at the bones. Under normal circumstances Paul would've received an earful, but I don't even care anymore. He can say what he wants, his head has always been full of air anyway.

And he realizes it too. I've always snapped back. Especially with him. It never helped to have to hear his thoughts about my sister, of all people. And he knows it, that's the way our relationship has always been. It's not like we hate each other, but we've always picked fights and now he's starting to see that I've stopped taking the bait.

"Geez, she's made you lose your bite," he says as we walk outside, a mocking tone seeping into his voice. He's trying to egg me on, but it's not going to work. I give him a look, but that's it. I don't have the energy to bicker with him. If it's a fight that he wants, then he's going to have to look somewhere else. "Okay, whatever. But if I have to hear one more word about that little bitch in my head today-"

And that's it. That sets me off. At that moment, all the suppressed emotions burn and flare up and rise straight up from my chest, all the way up to my head. I turn around and punch him square in the jaw. "Don't you ever, ever say anything like that about her again!" I yell at him. Inside, I really didn't want to punch him. As much as we get on each others' nerves, we've been through way too much for me to really want to hurt him - I still consider him a brother. If I were thinking clearly, I would've dismissed his rudeness because he's always been a jerk when it came to his mouth anyway.

But the sweet sense of release somehow manages to fill the void that Nessie's left in my existence, even if it is only temporary. Temporary, but I can make it last. Paul jerks his head back and mutters a stream of profanities, and I take this as my chance to use his volatility to my advantage. To stretch it out and force it to keep coming. And he's not helping either. "Just because you're too much of a wimp to tell her straight up-" Feeling a rush of adrenaline coursing through my veins, I lunge at him and we both start to tackle each other in a noisy, grunting brawl. I manage a few blows myself, but he gets me in the eye good and hard, and then drives his iron fist into my gut.

And suddenly I realise how good it feels. Better than unleashing my own strength to let off steam, this excruciating physical pain actually dulls the hurt and loneliness that's been consuming my soul. Every single blow I take comes one step closer to overshadowing the agony of being without Nessie. Subconsciously, my instincts continue to work, wrestling him back, and though he's bigger than me, I know that it needn't go any further than this point if I don't really want it too. Because we're still more or less equals in strength, which means that neither of us really has the upper hand.

Until he phases. He lets out a loud, angry growl and phases. And that just blows the fuse - the signals get blocked midway and the whole bloody circuit crashes. The massive gray wolf pounces onto me, crushing me to the ground. Rationally, this should be where I undertake the transformation myself, to fight him on a level playing field. But I don't want to, I don't want to phase. The crack of a rib in my chest almost seems to give me a high, because for just an instant, I can forget. Maybe he would back off if I didn't force him to keep coming, but that's what I do. I provoke him. I shout at him, telling him he's weak, telling him that the only reason my sister's with him is because she has no choice. Every single fear I've ever harboured about my relationship with Nessie, I dump it all on him.

And that's too much. I know it's too much. I feel the claws sink into my flesh as something else in my body, I'm not sure what, gets crushed too. And again. And again. And boy does it feel good. It doesn't just hurt - it's like an explosion of purgatory, like Hell itself, wrapped up in red-hot flaming ribbons just for me. But crazy as it sounds, it actually does feel so good. The smell of my own blood tainting the air, the vile, metallic taste of it as it pools in my mouth - every little bit of torture seems to push the emotional pain further and further back, every physical tear muffling yet another wound in my heart.

Then slowly, my mind starts to cloud over, though if it's from the bleeding or the trauma I can't tell. Maybe it's both. Maybe it's neither. I don't know. What I do know is that I can hear the others now. I can feel them prying the snarling wolf off my body and I can hear Quil's frantic voice calling to me. And it turns out that the masking really was only temporary. The same throbbing I'd felt just over a week ago as I left the Cullen residence returns to pound in my head, and the very same ache starts to swell up again in my chest. And then the pain, pain in every sense of the word, comes crashing down on me like a ten-foot tidal wave.

NESSIE

I'd felt hollow every day for the last eight days. Like I had no reason to live. Like I had no soul, no heart, nothing on the inside. I was just a shell. A lost lonely, abandoned shell, who had forgotten what the light looked like as she adjusted to live in the dark. I had spent the first two days refusing to get out of bed. And while dad was encouraging me to try and survive somehow, mom was understanding. When dad had left her she had felt the same. She had slipped into this nothing world for months. She always pulled dad away when he was encouraging me to hunt, or visit the family at the main house, or go shopping with Alice. And all of the Cullens had been to see me regularly to try their hand at persuading me to move, or to eat. None had been very successful. Only Uncle Jasper because I could tell how much my pain hurt him. And then Jasper hadn't been to visit again, but he had apparently passed on how I felt because some started to come visit more earnestly while others tried to give me time, as if in reaction to his words.

My dad always seemed confused in what to say to me. I'm guessing because he knew what was in both of our heads. He didn't want to see me hurt, but I think he was glad that Jacob didn't want me, they had after all never been friends. And I'm not entirely sure that dad was a fan of imprinting, though he accepted it. Mom on the other hand had spent hours on the phone with Billy those first few days. I don't know why she thought that would change anything, but it didn't. And sometimes I wondered if Jacob was hurting as deeply as I was because mom always seemed more worried when she got off the phone, filled with concern for Jake, I assumed. At those times I wanted to go to him, to check on him, but then the truth would stab through my heart all over again. He didn't want me there. He didn't want me to help him if he was hurting. He was trying to wrestle his way from me, from the imprint.

On the third day after dad demanded it of me, I got out of bed, showered and dressed. Rosalie had set me off that day. She had said disparaging words about Jacob being an untrustworthy, worthless dog. And I had done something I had never done before. I had attacked my family, with more ferocity than anyone thought I had. It had taken Uncle Emmett and dad to pull me off. And then I freed myself of them and finally went hunting, draining several large animals of their blood, until my hunger and rage at rose felt sated. I had refused to apologize. Rose hadn't been around since and neither had Uncle Emmett. And slowly, I pushed everyone away, alienated them, so that I truly was as alone as I felt, only my parents could seem to stand me. And that's how I've spent my days. On the edge of my seat, waiting for every knock on the door or telephone ring to be him. Wondering if he was okay. Wondering if hearing my voice would do for him what I imagined hearing his voice would do for me.

Without Jacob I felt dead, lackluster, like I possessed nothing worthy of the outside world, or anyone else. The only twisted part is that I would never be able to die. The wolves would never hurt me because I was Jacob's imprint. And no vampire would be able to get to me through all of my family and the wolves. "Don't think like that," my dad said, the sadness clear in his voice. I looked up at him and he looked tired and haggard, almost as he had when I was born from constantly worrying about mom and maybe losing her. And I felt immediately guilty for hurting him. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice hoarse from disuse.

The phone rang and my heart soared with hope, the light shining in my eyes again for just a moment. Mom answered it. She was already in the kitchen, making food to try and entice me into eating. I wondered if it would be him, if he finally had time for me, if he finally missed me enough to call. My ears perked up, listening. "Oh, hey, Billy," mom said, sounding as disappointed as I felt. My heart crashed down to my feet. He was probably just calling for mom, maybe to say some of the wolves would be patrolling nearby. And Jake still didn't want to talk to me. But then I felt mom's hand on my shoulder. "Ness...Billy wants to talk to you..."

I stared at her as if not understanding. Billy wanted to talk to me? And as realization dawned, I felt desperation fill me, as I felt panic creep into my stomach, twisting it into knots, and tears filling my eyes. I saw the look of horror on my dad's face and shook my head at my mom. "No..." I said to her, wishing that it wasn't a phone call for me. No one had called me for weeks, why couldn't that continue? If Billy wanted to talk to me then it couldn't be good. Either Jacob had truly left and even left town, or he had found someone else, or he was hurt. And I didn't want any of those things. "You should really take it," dad urged me. And I felt myself rise, my legs felt like lead as I struggled to make them work and walk me to the phone.

"Hello?" I croaked out, my voice hoarse from disuse and unshed tears.

"Nessie... it's Jake," Billy said, my worst fears confirmed. I felt my heart freeze in my chest as I waited to know what about Jake. My breath hitched as I tried not to cry. "He and Paul got into a fight..." What else was new? The two of them always fought. Why did I need to know this? "Paul phased. Jake didn't. He's been hurt really badly..."

"Doesn't he heal?" I whispered softly, already knowing the answer I was going to hear.

"He's not this time," Billy answered me. "You should come see him..."

The way Billy said it made it sound like I should come see him again now if I wanted to see him alive. The phone fell from my hand and clattered to the floor. What had I done? Had I sent him away to never see him again? I felt the whole world slip away, I couldn't focus on anything in front of me, or around me. I didn't hear the phone hit the floor, or see the arrival of my parents. And I wasn't aware of anything for the next ten minutes, until it all really sunk in. I couldn't never see Jake again. Almost like a jack in the box, I sprang from the couch where my parents had settled me, and barely mumbled an "I'll be back." before tearing out of the house and running through the forest at super human speed to the reservation.

I reached Jacob's house and knocked on the door. I heard scuffling around on the other side and was surprised to see all of both packs at Jake's small home. "Billy, is he...?" I couldn't bring myself to say dead. He had to heal. He just had to. He had to heal and come back to me.

Billy led me inside. "He's in his room. He's been slipping in and out of consciousness. He keeps talking about you." This made me happier than I'd been in weeks. He still cared about me. When this happened he wanted to see me.

"Though I don't know why," I heard Paul mutter. And it was then that I felt the tension in the room. The tension that seemed to all be focused towards me. As I looked around the room I realized that Billy's was the only friendly face that I saw. Even the imprints didn't seem to want me here. It was like I was unwelcome somewhere that had always had open arms for me.

"What?" I whispered. Because maybe Jake really did hate me. Maybe I truly wasn't welcome with the pack anymore.

"This is all your fault," Rachel accused me from her spot by Paul, her eyes swollen and her cheeks streaked with tears.

I was confused and maybe I shouldn't have reacted, but I hadn't felt any emotion in so long that it felt like an explosion. "And what about your Neanderthal of a wolf man? Isn't he the one who trampled Jake?"

"You were the one who ruined him," she practically shrieked at me. "You were the one who sent him away!"

The room seemed to close in on me. Was this true? Had I played any part in Jake's getting hurt? I would never forgive myself if that were true. Rachel had always been most accepting of me, and now she was sending me away. She didn't say I couldn't see Jake, because we all knew what the imprint was like, but the implication of her glare was that I should do the right thing and leave. I needed to know what happened. And I needed to know from the horse's mouth. "I have to..." I didn't finish my sentence before turning down the hall and going to Jake's room.

The tears could no longer be held back as I took in the look of Jacob's broken, swollen, beaten body. Every inch of him seemed to be covered in bruises, swollen, bloody, or be sitting at an awkward angle. "Oh, no, Jake," I moaned, desperate for his eyes to open and look at me. I had for the last week not thought that I could feel any worse, but this moment made me realize how wrong I was. All the secret hope that I kept hidden inside was now crushed. Jake would probably die. And then I'd never be able to tell him how I felt. I moved around his bed almost silently like I didn't want to disturb anything. I sat down in the chair next to the side of the bed he was situated on. "Jake," I said again, hoping for a response. "Jake, please. Open your eyes. Heal. Don't leave me. Come back to me. Please. I need you. I need you more than you know. I can't not have you in my life. That day, everything got so messed up...misunderstood...I never wanted you to leave. Never." I try to make there be so much conviction in my words that he has to wake up. "Please wake up," I begged him again. When it had been a few minutes and he didn't miraculously recover, I looked over him again. Scared to touch him. I didn't want to hurt him. So I rose to my feet and climbed into the bed next to him, curling up around him. "Please," I kept whispering over and over, silent tears running down my face, as I waited for something from him.


	4. Letting Go, Giving In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake is injured and Nessie coaxes him out of unconsciousness.

JACOB

The world is swimming in my head. Swimming round and round in dizzy circles. Or am I the one swimming? I can't tell, but every bit of me feels like it's been torn to shreds and chucked into a washing machine. An old clanky one. So this is how it feels like to be laundry. Except laundry can't feel. I can. Laundry can't bleed. I can. Laundry can't suffer from broken hearts. I'm not so lucky.

I wonder why Paul has stopped. Why isn't he carrying on? Why isn't he pounding me to bits? It's not enough to be shredded, I want to be dust. I can still feel, still see Nessie's face and the unspoken rejection. She would never say it to me. Never say it to my face, for fear of hurting me. But it hurt even more to know that she must be feeling it inside. That I was standing in the way of her happiness. It hurt even more than any blow Paul could ever drive into me with his fists. If I had known from the start, I would've jumped off a cliff way before she was even born if it meant I could have saved her all the trouble of uncertainty and doubt.

"Don't stop now, Paul," I mutter, still tasting the blood on my lip.

But Nessie. Nessie needs me. Let me go Paul, I need to get to her. Let me go you big blundering oaf.

"Nessie... I need to get to Nessie... "

No. She doesn't need me. She needs a life. A life that I'm depriving her of. I can't give her what can truly make her happy. She would never see me the same way I see her. I'm practically her Uncle Jake. Heck, she would think I'm dirty old Uncle Jake. Am I? Is it that wrong for me to love her, as more than my charge, as more than my friend? Is there some kind of rule that I would be breaking? But why is it okay for the other imprints and not for me, not for us?

I know why. Because she doesn't want it. The imprint is nothing but a vessel, or a bridge. It brings us together. But that's not enough. Where we go from there, we go by our own choices, our own decisions. I can't make that decision for her. And I won't let the imprint make it for her either.

The pain that comes with that thought hits me like a cannonball. A great big cannonball to the chest. I let out a groan and draw a staggered breath. Something's obstructing my airways. I can't breathe. I can't get air. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is where I flop over and die. No, wait, I'm still alive. I think. Would my absence, my complete absence, give Nessie peace, once and for all? Because I'd gladly egg Paul on again if that's what it takes. "You're getting soft, Paul. Give me all you've got."

"He's delirious. There aren't any bones left to break." I hear someone say. Is that Paul? Is that Paul saying I'm delirious? Or someone else? Someone suggests euthanizing me. I don't know if that's real or just in my head. Sounds like something a vamp would say. Like I'm some kind of shelter puppy or something. No way. Euthanasia's too darn swift. I want a long, hard painful death. Because that pain will block out all the sadness that I feel whenever I see Nessie's face in my head.

In fact I see her right now, as if she's right in front of me. I can see her and smell her and even hear her. She's saying my name, and I'm aching to tell her everything. After all, she's not real. She's just a figment of my imagination. Maybe I can pretend that this Nessie could somehow see me differently. Could I survive on a make-believe Nessie? Or would she turn away from me, even in my mind? Maybe all Nessies are the same.

No. There's only one Nessie. Just the one.

"Just one. Just one Nessie... but she would never... she would never love me that way," I whisper brokenly. It hurts to speak, and it hurts even more to say those words. It's like there's a conversation going on in my head, but I have absolutely no idea who I'm talking to. My conscience, maybe? The one with the halo? Or perhaps the one with the pitchfork. I can't tell which one's more evil. "You can't tell her. You'll hurt her. You'll hurt her... and then you'll drive her away. You'll lose her forever."

"I don't want to... I don't want to hurt her... but I already have. I've already lost her," I choke bitterly, feeling something slide down my face. Is that my tear? Have I been crying? I didn't think I was. "I love her so much... I love her... I'm a monster for wanting you that way, Nessie, I'm sorry... but I do... I love you..."

And then it comes. Even a proclamation of love to my imaginary soulmate can't escape punishment. Something constricts painfully inside. My gut. Or my heart. Or my brain. Where is my brain supposed to be again? Something. Everything. It's like being crushed under a truck. Or being set on fire. Or being crushed by a truck on fire. I cry out in agony, jerking my body, writhing against it, but that just makes it worse. It makes the pain worse.

And I want to make it worse.

NESSIE

He's lying there. He's still unconscious. And he's perfectly still. If I wasn't lying next to him, pressed to his body, watching the rise and fall of his chest, I would think that maybe he was dead. Gone. Lost to me forever. "What happened?" I whispered to him. "Why didn't you fight back?" A bitter note enters my voice as I ask this question. Why wouldn't he fight back? Did he want this? Did he want to be like this? Did he want to be hurt? And why wouldn't he heal? "Why?" I whispered pleadingly to his still form, not expecting an answer. He was still unconscious after all.

"Come on, Jake," I pleaded as I watched him. I wanted him to wake up. I ached to reach out and touch him, to caress his forehead, to hold his hand. But I didn't want to cause him any further pain. I wondered if he could tell that I was here? Could he hear me? Could he feel me? Did he feel our connection like I did? I felt it, new and whole, and holding me to my spot. I didn't know if I'd ever be able to walk away from him again. I wanted to just lie with him forever.

"Just one...Just one Nessie..." I wondered briefly what he was talking about. One what. What did he need? I would give him anything I could, including my heart, if it would bring him back. "But she would never love me that way." I was floored by those words. What way? Was he really talking about the way that I already loved him? The way I assumed he couldn't love me? Could I be so lucky? Okay, so not lucky exactly, he is after all hurt, possibly beyond repair. But would my heart get what it was yearning for finally as the outcome of all of this? If that was true he had to get better.

I wasn't sure what to say. But I could no longer resist the urge to reach out and take his broken hand into mine. "Jake, I'm here..." I began before he started mumbling again. He said that he couldn't tell me, he would drive me away forever. I felt shocked. Did he really believe for a second that I didn't love him? That I could ever abandon him, if it wasn't what I thought he wanted. "No, it's not like that..." I stop, realizing that I'm arguing with a concussed or comatose man, I'm not even sure which, he's so badly beaten and torn apart.

He says he's already lost me, that he would be a monster to love me. And my heart constricts, I feel the air being sucked from my lungs after having just returned. He would probably never admit to his feelings out loud if he wasn't all messed up, if that's how he felt about it. Why would he feel repulsed at himself because he loved me? Is it because he's worried about how people might perceive us? Because he went from changing my diapers to now wanting to be with me? But everyone who mattered would understand. It was the nature of the imprint.

"No, Jake," I say to him softly, "You didn't lose me. I'm right here. Right next to you," I squeeze his hand slightly, running my thumb over the back of his bruised hand. "Just open your eyes and you'll see." I bit my bottom lip, slightly nervous, it was now or never. I had to plunge. On the off chance that he could hear me, I had to tell him. It seemed that he needed to hear it. "You're not a monster," I said matter of factly, "I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere. Ever. I'll always be by your side. Hell, I'll even move in here if that's what you want. Whatever you want." I chuckled slightly. "Because I love you too. And I never want to lose you again."

He still hadn't responded in anyway. I leaned over and kissed his forehead. "Please don't make me lose you now. Please, come back. Please heal." I was back to begging. And to make sure that I lived in a world where Jake existed, I wasn't above it. "Just open your eyes and you'll see that everything's fine. Everything's right again. I'm here."

Okay, so saying everything was fine might have been a stretch, but I wanted the idea of returning to me to sound appealing. And I worried that maybe he was in this state because of me like Paul and Rachel implied. Maybe me turning him away had driven him to this. Tears of guilt slid down my cheeks.

All I knew was that he couldn't die on me.

JACOB

Darkness. My mind is sucking me into a dark vortex of nothingness, and I keep willing it to drag me in deeper and deeper, waiting for it to come to a point where her absence would be less profound. But that doesn't happen. The closer I get to its empty core, the more I ache for her. I need the pain, I need it desperately to mask this constant yearning for Nessie, even if it's only momentary.

I'm just wondering how far off the edge I am, if I'm not already long gone, when I feel a familiar sensation. A smooth, cool, delicate hand, gently taking mine. I know this hand. I feel like I've known it all my life, and I've certainly known it all of hers. From the time when it was barely big enough to wrap around my finger right up till now that it fits perfectly around every groove, this hand has always felt like it was made to complement mine. And in this one moment, the darkness dissipates, replaced by what can only be described as an explosion of rainbows, and even that falls short of what it really feels like.

It is when I feel a slight pressure that I realise that the movement actually hurts. But her thumb moving over the back of my hand in a soothing caress is more than enough to make up for it. Am I hallucinating? Is she here? Or am I already dead? Is this heaven giving me all I've ever wanted, or hell showing me everything I'll never have?

"You're not a monster." That voice. I would know it anywhere. But what she's saying… what she's saying, so firmly and with so much conviction, must mean that she's only in my head. She's a figment of my imagination, responding to my fanciful declaration. I want to pull away, to stop my mind from rewarding itself with things it wants to hear, but I can't. Her hand is like an anchor, holding me in place.

She says that she'll always be by my side. She tells me that she'll move in with me if I wanted that. She sounds adamant, like she's willing to do anything, absolutely anything for me. It almost sounds like she's bargaining with me, like she'll do all this for me if I'll do something for her in return. I'm in the midst of wondering what this means, what it is that this Nessie wants from me, when I hear her chuckle softly, almost as if to herself. "…I love you too."

Suddenly it feels like my heart has started beating again after a long hiatus. I've imagined before what it might be like if she were to say those words to me, if it were ever possible, but nothing I've ever conjured up in my head has ever come close. Even without seeing her face, her words are laden with feeling, their meaning crystal clear. And hearing them is like having life breathed back into me. Life, which I was more than willing to give up just seconds ago.

How does the mind play these tricks on you?

Then I feel it. Her lips pressing against my forehead, lightly. My awareness of my surroundings is getting clearer and clearer, my senses increasingly heightened as I hear her voice, feel her touch, smell her scent. "Please don't make me lose you now. Please, come back. Please heal. Just open your eyes…" That's when everything starts falling into place. She's here. She's really right next to me and not just in my head. That's why she said she'd do anything for me… to get me to live.

And I cannot deny her. I can't and have never been able to deny her anything. She is my reason, and her beautiful voice, cracking with emotion, tells me all that I need to know – that she needs me. That alone is enough to restore my will to live. I can't be there for her as a corpse.

I draw a sharp breath. A breath in. A breath out. My hand stirs slightly in hers. The feeble strings tying me to consciousness are strengthened by her anxious calling to me and my renewed resolve to get back to her. I force my way through, struggling to regain control of my now-broken body.

I don't know how long it takes me, because I've lost all concept of time, but at long last I'm finally able to get my eyes to open. When I do, though, everything that just happened, what I heard and what went on in my head, becomes a blur. All I'm really certain of is that I need to be here. At first I have to squint, adjusting to the light. My left eye is still swollen half-shut as a result of coming into contact with Paul's fist, but the right is good enough to make up for the visual compromise. I turn my head, slowly overcoming the stiffness in my neck, and see her lying beside me. My Nessie. For real. I feel like I've just gone through an eternity without seeing her.

The first thing I notice is that she has tears in her eyes. It looks like she's been shedding them for a while, and that breaks my heart. The hand that she's holding still feels like it must be close to shattered, but I just manage to move it out of hers and drag my arm upwards so that I can reach out to touch her face. Gingerly, I brush the back of my bruised fingers over the dampness on her cheeks. "Ness…" I whisper hoarsely, offering her a crooked smile. "Don't cry… Come on, I don't look that scary, do I?"

NESSIE

I'm talking to him, pleading with him to come back to me, to be with me, to choose me over the abyss. Or maybe the reality inside his head is better than this one. Maybe he thinks coming back here to me, is like returning to an abyss and missing out on a great party or something. I don't know what he has in his mind, what's being offered to him on the other side. It could be anything. But I feel confident that he needs me, like I need him, and that I could give him anything he wanted, I could give him a life better than what he was imagining now. I had to be able to. I was his Nessie. And we loved each other. If his admission right then while he was unconscious was reliable that was. But right now, I didn't want to doubt it. I wanted to revel in it, even if it meant that I got my legs kicked out from under me later. I wanted to feel the happy thrill now.

And then he takes in a ragged breath. Deeper than his last, than all of his previous. And I froze, held my breath. Could it be? Could he be coming back to me? And then he stirred, his hand moved in mine. I watched him for what felt like an eternity on bated breath, and just when I started to believe that his stirring was a fluke, his eyes opened. And I couldn't stop the smile that spread across my lips, the strained nervous laugh that escaped from my chest as I felt my body relax. He was back. Everything was right again. "Welcome back," I said to him with a warm smile, though the tears were still rolling down my cheeks. "I was so scared," I tell him honestly, letting everything just tumble out of my mouth. "I thought I was going to lose you forever. You can't do that to me, okay? You can't leave me ever again." I try to give him another smile, to joke, to make it light, but I fall short, more tears streaking down my cheeks. I want to move closer to him, to hold him, but I'm terrified of causing him more pain than he's already in.

It's then that his hand reaches up to wipe away my tears. And it seems like everything is truly right and good between us, perfect even. I know in that moment that our time apart hasn't destroyed us, our friendship, or love? Or my love at the very least hasn't been destroyed by the distance. I know he has no hard feelings about the mistakes that we have made in the past. I know that he's still there for me. That he forgives me. This one single touch says all of that. And I lean into his warm hand, into his touch. I want more of it. I want to be closer to him. I want to spend forever in this bed, just pressed against his side with no distance between us.

"Don't cry... Come on, I don't look that scary do I?" He asks me, and he's back to being himself, making a joke at his own expense to make me feel better. I shake my head, tears still streaming down my cheeks. It's like now that I can feel relief. Now that I know everything's going to be okay, I can't stop the flood of emotions in me, I can't close the dam that is letting these tears escape, even though I try for his sake. I'm not sure why, maybe because I'm still on a high from his possibly fake declaration of love, but I find myself saying. "Of course not, you're beautiful." I blush slightly. I know he's beaten and bruised and battered, but he's still beautiful to me. He could never be anything less.

But it's then that relief starts to leave me, and worry starts to set in again. He still isn't healing. There's no marked, visible improvement in him. What if this is just one last goodbye? Why wasn't he healing? And the most important question. "Jake, what happened?" I ask him quietly. I don't want to push, but I am curious, I want to know. I lean over and wipe away a few stray tears that he's shedding as I take his hand as gently as I can and lower it back to his side. "Don't strain yourself," I say tenderly. I can't stand to see the pain that was in his eyes at just reaching out to touch me. I scoot closer to him. "I'm here," I assure him, "Right next to you, and I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

JACOB

"Welcome back," she says. It's so good to hear her voice and see her face at the same time. But immediately I feel a stab of guilt at the realisation of what I must've just put her through. She really was afraid, afraid that I would die on her. I put myself in her shoes for a moment, switching places, and even the thought of it makes me shudder. What was I thinking?

When she leans into my touch, I find that I can easily ignore the pain that comes with it, because I know that we're okay. It doesn't matter how we feel about each other, it doesn't matter if she'll never return my love for her in the way that I wish she could. None of that matters as much as this, this closeness, this bond between us. Everything else is secondary. I can live without her having those kind of feelings for me, but I can't live without her. Ever. I've learned that over the last week.

She shakes her head at my half-jesting question, but it seems like I've only made her cry even more. I let out a laugh when she denies it and tells me I'm beautiful. Yeah right. Okay, not a good idea, that hurts. I feel a broken rib poking into something it shouldn't and try not to let it show. I know she's already worried enough as it is. I can't put her through any more than I already have.

"Jake, what happened?" she asks softly before gently brushing away the tears that I hadn't even realised had been sliding down my face and bringing my hand back down from its awkward position by her cheek, telling me not to strain myself.

At that I close my eyes briefly and sigh, the events leading up to this slowly coming back to me. The empty hollow I'd been living in since the last time I'd seen her, the fight with Paul, my choosing not to phase as he continued to attack. Everything. How could I tell her that? How could I tell her that in that moment, I'd just wanted to let him beat me to death? That would break her heart for sure. Haven't I done that enough already?

When I open my eyes again, there's a strange sense of relief, as if I thought that she might have disappeared while I wasn't looking. But she moves closer and assures me that she's not going anywhere, and I believe her. Yet… wasn't that what I'd been worried about before? That her connection to me would tie her down and keep her from all the other things she deserves to have in her life?

"I don't know… I don't know what got into me…" I admit to her, and it really is true. I hadn't planned on doing anything drastic. I'd told her I'd always be around if she needed me – there was no way I would have consciously made the decision to go back on that promise. But in the heat of the moment, the physical pain had somehow sucked me in, dulling the ache of her persistent absence, and I'd thought… well, I would rather have that. But again, how could I possibly tell her that when I know it would make her feel responsible for all this? Even though she isn't. She could never be at fault. The fault was mine from the start.

I can't help but wonder though... how did she do during the time that I hadn't been to see her? Had she been at all happier that way? Is she only here because she thought that I might die? Because when I look into her eyes, I see that they're still filled with so much concern… but also something else. Remnants of her fear. "I'm so sorry, Nessie… for putting you through all this…"

NESSIE

As I take his hand away from my face, it seems like he is disappointed, like his body goes slack, like he is weighed down by something that I don't understand. Did he think I was rejecting him? I could never reject him. And I would never push him away from me again. I would never assume that his life could be better without me again. He doesn't say it, but I have a feeling that my absence had a hand in this. And I will carry that guilt forever, even if he makes it. Even if he survives.

He tells me that he doesn't know what got into him. But there's a distance in his eyes. One that makes me wonder if this statement is the full truth. Or if he's trying to protect me and my feelings from something. I scoot closer to him, if that were possible and rest my head on his chest to prove that we're still close as ever. I hear him take in a rattling breath and immediately pull away again, having forgotten that my actions might have hurt him. Usually nothing I can do can actually cause him physical pain. "I'm sorry," I apologize immediately.

I then say jokingly to him. "You know, you should hurry up and heal," I tell him with a small grin. So that I could be near him while I was here. I then make a decision. Now that I have him back in my life, and he's in this state, I say matter-of-factly. "I'm going to stay with you tonight." there's no room for argument in my tone. And I hope that he doesn't send me away. It wouldn't be like this would be our first sleep over. Possibly our first since I developed feelings for him. But not our first.

I shake my head and hold up a hand to halt his apology. None of that matters now. His loosing his mind momentarily and letting Paul phase on him. His walking away. None of that matters. What matters is that we're together again. "Don't worry about it," I tell him sincerely. "The past is in the past. Just promise me you'll never walk away again. It was like part of me was missing the whole time. I need you. You're my best friend. And..." I paused, wondering if I could say it out loud to him when he was conscious, and hoped that he would understand how I meant it, "I love you."

JACOB

She's so close. So close that I wish we could just stay like this forever. Who cares about the world when this is all that matters? But when she rests her head on my chest, I can't stop myself from pulling a sharp, unsteady breath at the pain. Okay, maybe not exactly like this forever. I don't want to cringe every time she touches me, or she'd just end up staying away.

She does pull away, but only just. Because she's afraid she might hurt me. Then she jokingly tells me off, "You know, you should hurry up and heal." She's speaking lightheartedly, smiling even, but I know that seeing me this way is hurting her deeply. And she shouldn't have to… she shouldn't have to see me this way. She doesn't need this extra burden. I'm going to listen to her. I need to will this broken body to heal. But with the extensive damage, this is going to take a while, and even though I don't want us to be apart for another second, I contemplate sending her home, at least to spare her from having to watch me this way, at least until I get better.

What she says next, though, I didn't see coming. "I'm going to stay with you tonight." She says it so firmly that I can't even say no. I know when she's adamant about something, and I can tell now from her tone that she's not going to budge if my only reason for objection is so that she doesn't have to go through this with me. I know she'll want to, just like I would always want to be with her whenever she's in pain.

And then she shakes her head at my apology, insisting to me that the past is the past. Perhaps… but I will never forgive myself for ever causing her pain, intentionally or not. She didn't deserve that, not in the slightest. "Just promise me you'll never walk away again. It was like part of me was missing the whole time. I need you." So she'd felt it too. I sigh to myself, wondering how things had gotten so misunderstood. It wasn't what either of us had wanted.

"I promise," I reply, nodding as best I can. "I would never have done it if I didn't think it was the best thing for you at the time. I was wrong, I see that now. And I've made us both suffer because of that."

She tells me I'm her best friend, and I'm glad. I'm glad she still sees me that way, glad she's not so upset with me that she'd rather not see me again. I realize right then how history had repeated itself, how I'd walked away from her the same way her father had walked away from Bella. I had cursed him then, thinking he was cruel, thinking he was selfish – but now I know what it's like, to do something because you think it's the right thing. Even if it's not.

"And... I love you."

That's when I do a double take. I know she does. But the way she just said it this time is just like how she said it moments ago in my head. I study her face carefully, trying to gauge exactly what she means by that, in exactly which context. But that's not enough. We owe it to ourselves and each other to put everything out on the table. No more secrets, no more suppressed feelings. Even if I'm reading her all wrong – it doesn't matter, I can deal with that, but we do need to clear the air between us once and for all.

"Nessie, we need to talk," I say softly before pulling myself up slightly, feeling some strength starting to return. I hold her gaze for one long hard moment. "I need to tell you something."


	5. Standing on the Edge of a Precipice

NESSIE

I watch him wince as he struggles for a moment to raise himself up. I hate that he's in so much pain, I hate that he's hurt at all. I wish there was something that I could do to try and make this whole thing better. I wish I could take all of his pain away, feel it myself instead. It tears at my heart and I want to tell him to lie back down, to relax, that things can be said later, that nothing is important right now, important enough to disturb him, to agonize him.

He promises to stay with me, said he thought it was for the best. "How could it have been for the best?" I ask of him, trying to understand what was going through his head. How could he ever think I wanted him to go? "I never wanted you to go..." I trail off, "When you left, I thought you wanted it. That you wanted a life that I wasn't so prominent in. that maybe you wanted a girlfriend or something." I blush. It all sounds so silly now. Did he want a girlfriend or not? Did it even really matter? If he had he probably would've just said so, we were best friends after all, right. "But I never wanted you to go," I insist again. I was letting him go if it made him happy, happier than he could be with me.

And then his tone of voice stops me dead in the middle of talking and trying to explain. He wants to talk. He says that he needs to tell me something. And I felt fear creep into my being again. My heart constricted and the breath started to slip away from my lungs. What if he had to tell me that he didn't really love me too? That that had just been coma talk. That he had maybe found someone else. That I was his best friend and nothing more. I found it hard to meet his eyes again. I had to prepare myself for what he had to say. I put on a mask and built a wall around my fragile heart as best I could before looking at him again. "What is it?" I try to keep my voice from shaking in fear of what he might say and from sounding distant as I even tried to distance myself from the situation.

JACOB

I was right. We should have been honest with each other. When she asks me how I thought it could have been for the best and then goes on to say that she thought I had left because it was what I wanted, I realize exactly how screwed up things really got along the way. I had only wanted it because I thought she did. Now I'm finding out that she thought I wanted a girlfriend? How far that is from the truth! And to think that the whole time we were apart, she never knew what my intentions were; she'd actually believed that I didn't want her anymore. That was even harder to take in, the fact that she'd had to suffer with that assumption for that long.

And we both did. We both went through it, broke down because of it. Or in my case, broke because of it. All because of a silly miscommunication. I can't have that, for either of us. We really do need to clear this up right now. I don't want her thinking for a moment longer that I'd abandoned her for that. "It wasn't like that at all," I say as look at her sadly. "Things just got so seriously misunderstood… I thought you needed space. When you asked me if I ever felt stifled, I thought that was how you felt – especially after the break-up with Mike. I thought I was holding you back, that because of the imprint you couldn't experience all the things a normal girl your age – well, forget the technicalities – would want to have. I didn't want to be the one to clip your wings."

I then pause for a brief moment. "…you thought I wanted a girlfriend?" I ask as a small teasing smile slowly creeps across my face. How could I ever want anyone else? I chuckle slightly. "Silly girl."

But when she asks what it is that I want to talk to her about, I feel the smile slip away. There's something in her tone that tells me she's hesitant. And she's not quite meeting my gaze. I reach out and tilt her chin up slightly, wanting her to look at me fully, forgetting that my arm's still in rebel mode. I hiss sharply at the sudden pain and let it fall back to my side. "Gee, Paul really did a great job," I joke as I lean back and close my eyes for a moment. Heal, heal, heal, damn it. Why did I ask for this? Finally I look at her again, only to find worry there. "Sorry. I'll be okay, don't worry…"

Then I know I can't hold it back anymore. "Nessie, I… I have a confession to make." I need to steel myself up for the rejection. I can deal with it, but I need to be prepared for it. Because no matter what the outcome, I still want to be with her, as long as she wants me to be. Even if she only wants me around as a friend, I know I can't live without her anymore. "You know when you first started going out with Mike? And you told me about your first kiss with him?"

I remember listening intently to every word, smiling at knowing she was getting to be a typical teenager. But deep down inside, something had stirred… "I realized something then. Please don't freak out, okay?" I say slowly, carefully following her every reaction. "…I realized then that… I was jealous. Jealous of Mike. And I didn't know if I should be feeling that way. You've known me all your life as something like a big brother."

"I know, I know how the imprint is… I mean, it's just that, I didn't want the imprint to force you into anything, just because of it what it was," I explain, hoping she can see where I'm coming from, however she feels about what I'm telling her. "I wanted you to have the freedom to choose your own path."

At least she's listening. At least she's hearing me out. I can't stand to hide anything from her, not anymore. Maybe that was why all this happened – we've never had any real secrets from each other… except until recently, and it was that that had put a strain on our relationship. But not anymore. "And I want you to know that I still do. I will always want that for you. But… I just can't not tell you anymore, Ness." I stop, my eyes burning into hers. I feel like she can see right through them, straight into my heart, my soul.

And if I'd had just let her see from the start, I know she would have.

"Nessie… I love you."

NESSIE

"You could never, ever, hold me back," I said when he mentioned that he thought he might clip my wings. I put so much emphasis on the word ever that it felt like the feelings and power behind it should have moved the Earth. "I want you with me for everything I do. You make everything I do and accomplish, better. You're the only one I really want to share anything and everything with. You could never stifle me." I want to elaborate, but it seems like he has more to say, some more confession than just that to make. He wants to tell me something else, and I'm struggling to hear it, unsure if my heart can take it, can take the words that might come next.

"Silly girl." He says to me teasingly about my thoughts that he might have wanted a girlfriend. It hadn't seemed silly at all when I thought it. I mean I wanted a boyfriend. Granted, I wanted that boyfriend to be him, but I could settle, who knew what he wanted. But now it seemed like the silliest thought in the world. In light of everything that he had said. He wanted our relationship. He wanted my friendship. He wanted that over anything else. And selfishly I was glad. Even if he didn't want anything romantic with me, I would probably still always come first. I could keep him to myself for longer. And that thought brought me peace.

"Geez, Paul did a really good job." He rasps out to me and I cringe at the expression on his face, at how awkward his arm looks reaching towards me. I realize that I have to look him in the eye. As much as his next words have the potential to crush me. I can't cause him any more pain, physical or otherwise. I have to be brave, I have to be strong. I have to will myself to meet his eyes. "It's not funny," the words are supposed to sound reprimanding, but they come out weak, because I have a hard time truly yelling at him when his health is so precarious, when he might not be okay at all. He tells me not to worry. And while hearing the words and his voice does bring me some solace, it brings me little comfort. How can I not worry when his whole body is broken and as far as I can tell it's not even healing? I want to demand the answer to that question, but his next question about Mike catches me off guard, and I'm left helpless to do anything other than nod.

And then his explanation turns more serious, turns to the things I'm afraid to hear. Only, he says everything I want to hear him say. I'm stuck staring at him, stunned into silence, mute, for long minutes on end. His eyes are boring into mine and I can come up with nothing to say in response. Nothing. Because part of me is terrified that this is a dream, that I'll wake up still lying next to unconscious, beaten Jake, and none of this would have happened. "What?" is the first thing that I manage to squeak out as I stand on the precipice of getting everything that I ever wanted. And it's then that he avoids my eyes.

He thinks I don't love him. My heart feels like it's breaking at the thought. I feel like I've been punched in the gut by Uncle Emmett. Could he really know so little about how I feel for him? A big smile spreads across my face as the idea that he wants me like I want him sets in. And ironically the smile has some part to do with the fact that my rejection could hurt him so much. It's good to know that we can feel the same way completely, that it physically looks like my perceived rejection hurts just as much as his had hurt me. "Jake," I say quietly, reaching out and touching my hand to his cheek lightly. "Look at me please," the happiness is evident in my voice.

When his eyes wouldn't meet mine, I gave a small sigh, but plowed ahead anyway. He needed to know. "You remember when I started dating Mike?" I asked him. "How I asked you if you thought it was a good idea?" He gave the smallest of nods. "I asked you that because I was hoping you'd say it wasn't. I was hoping you'd say you wanted to date me." That sounded pretty lame. Because if Jake and I ever did get together it would be so much more than just dating. "I've been in love with you and only you since I've been interested in boys." I pray that he'll look up at me.

"I love you Jake," I emphasize to him. "Always have. Always will." To me it was as simple as that. He had been the only man I'd ever loved and he would be the only man I would ever love.

JACOB

I immediately feel bad when she scolds me lightly for joking about the pain. Somehow it almost feels as if I'm the one watching her suffer from broken bones, even though I know for a fact that the damage done to my body is real. Very real. Like hell if I ever let anything like this happen to her. Still, I can't help but grin at her feeble attempt to get me to take this seriously. She doesn't have the heart to really get angry at me right now. I can tell.

But when I make my confession, when I tell her that I love her, I practically get no response. She's just staring at me blankly, like she doesn't want to believe what I just said. Great, did I really just creep her out by telling her that? I feel my heart start to sink when she manages a tiny squeak. "What?" Did I just ruin everything? Are things going to be awkward between us now? Did all the magic that was between us just before disappear for her as soon as I said that?

Taking a deep breath, I look away. I couldn't have not told her. I believe that she would've wanted to know, whether or not she approved of what I felt. Still, it doesn't make the moment any easier. But I can handle it – as long as I don't lose her again. I couldn't deal with that a second time, that's for sure. I feel her cool hand on my cheek as she asks me to look at her. That's when I hear something different in her voice. She almost sounds relieved, elated even. There's a smile on her lips, but I still dare not hope, averting my gaze just enough to keep me grounded.

Then she starts talking about Mike again, and yes, of course I remember her asking me if it was a good idea. And I thought it was. I thought it was good for her to experience that. "I asked you that because I was hoping you'd say it wasn't," she says, making me blink and suddenly I feel like I can't keep my eyes away from her much longer. Is she going where I think she's going with this? "I was hoping you'd say you wanted to date me."

Now it's my turn to stare at her mutely, at a loss for words. I must be dreaming again. Paul must've hit me in the head so hard that I'm probably still in stuck in my own little world up there. "I've been in love with you and only you since I've been interested in boys." Slowly, I bring my eyes back up to meet her penetrating gaze as she tells me what I'd been secretly hoping she would. That she loves me too. "Always have. Always will."

I feel a slow smile start to spread across my face. How things got so screwed up, I have no idea, but knowing that it had all brought us to this moment, I would gladly go through it all over again. In a heartbeat. "You know what I'm going to do the moment I've healed, right?" The smile widens into a sheepish, lopsided grin. "I'm going to kiss you. For real this time."


	6. A Vampire's Warning

JAKE

Three weeks. It's been three weeks since I made it to heaven and I'm still there. How else can I describe it, when I'm walking into a party with Nessie on my arm? Okay, so the room is filled with squealing teenagers dancing to music that makes me feel like an old fart. But that doesn't matter. None of that matters. I'm with Nessie, my Nessie, and I couldn't be happier.

As we make our way in, I notice some poor kid trip and nearly stomp on his pretty little partner's foot. I grin mischievously as I lean down and whisper into Nessie's ear, "Bet you ten bucks I can get through the night without stepping on your toe?"

NESSIE

The last three weeks have been nothing but perfect. I've had Jacob the way that I wanted him for a long time. And most everyone was happy. I say most everyone because my dad seemed to cringe every time the two of us were in his presence, probably from the thought of what all our jumbled swirling in love thoughts meant. Tonight though. Tonight dad had given me an angry glare and warned Jacob to be careful with me. As if Jacob would need telling twice, as if Jacob would need to be reminded to protect me. But I knew what it was about tonight.

Okay, so I've had Jake, yes, and things have been amazing, yes, even if it has been advancing faster than my father would like. But lately I've been noticing Jacob's closeness to my mom. And deep down, I know that Jake isn't into my mom. But it bugs me. It makes me wonder. It gives me doubt. Though I know mom would never leave dad, I worry that he still feels that way about her. That Jake still wants her. And even if he doesn't, I haven't been able to stop thinking that no matter what, everything Jacob and I have done, he's done with my mom before. My mom and no one else as far as I know. And it's weird to feel like your mother is your competition, or is what you're being compared to. Do I kiss as good as her? Does he want me like he wanted her? More? Is the love the same and just transferred to another person? I feel so confused. Because well I should know better, she's my mother. But nothing in our crazy world is easy or simple and very little of it makes sense.

So I'd started thinking that I needed to have a piece of Jake to myself. Something that I could share with him that no one else had yet. I had to sleep with Jake. And so when a friend, Marissa, had told me about her party tonight, a plan had formed. One that involved me, alcohol, Jake, and being away from my dad, so that making love would even be in the realm of possibility.

"Bet me ten bucks I can get through the night without stepping on your toe?" he speaks against my ear. His hot breath causes goose bumps to break out on my skin and a tingle of exhilaration to run down my spine. It was unfair the effect he had on me so easily when I seemed like I had to work so hard sometimes for a reaction from him. But his words made me chuckle. "Been spending way too much time with Embry..." Embry always wanted to make everything into a bet. I shook my head and said lightly. "You have a few unfair advantages." I winked at him. "I'm not taking that bet." I smile up at him and leaned in to speak into his ear while he was still bent down to my height. "But I will take a dance."

And after that maybe a drink.

JACOB

I snort when she tells me I've been spending too much time with Embry. Fair enough if she won't take the bet. We've got better things to do. "Glad you said that," I reply with a smile before straightening up and leading her onto the dance floor. Almost everyone else was already dancing, so why not? Why not jump straight in into the fun?

It's strange how even something this small, so seemingly insignificant, could feel so fulfilling. Dancing with Nessie not just as the big best friend she grew up around, but as something much more than that. The amazing thing is how completely natural all this feels. Just being with her this way feels so right, no matter how much Cullen wishes otherwise. He did, after all, give me a stern warning earlier. I'd met his fiery glare with a good hard stare of my own, because as much as he hates to admit it, he knows that Nessie means more to me than my own life.

But deep down, I suppose I can see where he's coming from. I would never say that aloud, but I can only imagine what it must be like to watch – and hear – Nessie and me together. And believe me, I would give anything to shove some earplugs into his brain. But yeah, whether or not we look at it from the technical point of view or otherwise, Nessie is still a young girl. And I'm fully aware of that. Just because we're in love doesn't mean that we need to rush things. I mean, we have the rest of forever, so why should we? Surely she has the sense to see that as well, and to realize that I would never expect anything more from her than she's ready to give until the time is right.

As we start to dance to a song that I'm not familiar with, though, I feel all those thoughts slide away to the very corners of my mind. We're here tonight to have a good time, and that's what I intend to do. I find myself laughing heartily at both her and myself as we attempt a little twirl that gets tangled up somehow. But hey, I still haven't stepped on her foot. It's all good.

NESSIE

Jacob leads me onto the dance floor and the feeling of my hand in his is amazing. I smile at him as I stare into his eyes. As we move around the dance floor together in time to the music, everything slips away. It's just me and him. And that's all that could ever matter. I feel warm and safe and loved in his arms, surrounded by his scent. We get tangled up in a twirl or two and I can't help but laugh. Laughter that grows louder as Jake jokingly does some of the corniest moves I've ever seen. Yet somehow he's still one of the most attractive men I've ever seen. Even when he looks completely silly right now. I pretend to be embarrassed by him and cross my arms over my chest, rolling my eyes. "If you're not going to take this seriously, maybe I'll just go." I gesture with my head in the direction away from the dance floor. But he knows I'm kidding. And so do I. And within moments we're both dancing together ridiculously, him teaching me the zany moves I don't know. And I know people are pointing and laughing. But I don't care because I'm too wrapped up in Jake and having fun with him.

After quite a few dances, I feel my human side catching up to me. "This dancing queen needs a break," I called to him, over the music. As we reach the drink table, it's then that I remember my plan. Plan seduce Jake. I briefly wondered if werewolves could get drunk. It might all be easier if they could. I grab a plastic cup and before he can stop me, it's filled with Sprite and some kind of grape flavored vodka. I've seen Marissa drink it before. She loves it. But I've never been a big drinker. I wonder if Jake will say anything, or if he'll let me have a few, since we are at a party and all. I take a small sip. It's not bad. Jacob grabs a water and then I lead him outside in search of fresh air.

But the night air is cool, so in no time, I'm leaning into Jacob's warmth. "Are you having fun?" I ask him quietly. "Thank you for coming. I know that this isn't really what you had in mind when I mentioned us going out." I lean up and place a quick peck on his lips. "I promise it can be your choice next weekend." Man I was going to need a lot more of these drinks to be as forward as I needed to be.

JACOB

She threatens to go but I know she's just joking. She's not really embarrassed, even though she's pretending to be. "C'mon, you know you love my moves," I say with a great big grin, wiggling my eyebrows. So yeah, she's probably the only one in this room who does, but she's the only one that matters. I can't help but chuckle as I imagine what I must look like on the floor, towering over pretty much everyone else, dancing like a bear on coal.

Finally she decides that she's pooped out, and quite frankly I'm happy to take a break myself. I follow her over to the drink table, planning on pouring us both some punch when I realize that she's already helping herself to something else. I take a sniff. "Nessie…" I begin with a frown. There shouldn't be alcohol at this party – most of the kids here are underage. But she gives me this look. Not just any look. The look. She knows it's my weakness. I cross my arms for a moment, shaking my head, but then I give in and warn her, "Just one." As long as that's it, and as long as I stay sober, it's okay. So I grab myself some water before we move on outside.

I wrap an arm around her shoulders as she leans against me, like she was made to fit right there. She asks me if I'm having fun before thanking me for coming. "Am I having fun? What, did you not see me in there?" I ask with a laugh, pointing first at myself and then towards the door. As she gives me a quick kiss, I can already taste the alcohol on her lips, and I'm not liking it, but that little shouldn't hurt and I don't want to spoil the mood. "My choice, huh? Hmm…" I reach my other arm around her to rub my hands together. "You're asking for it."

NESSIE

He doesn't seem all too pleased with my drinking, but he seems to let it slide. For now at least, but he gives me a warning that reminds me a bit more of a caretaker than a boyfriend. And I decide in that moment that Jake doesn't need to see me drink any of the other drinks. As far as he knows, it will be just one. But it'll really be more than that.

When I thank him for coming to the party, he makes it seem like it's no big deal. Like this is the place he would choose to be. And I guess that that is true to a point because well this is where I want to be and he wants to be where I am. But he rubs his hands together and implies that I'm really in for it, in what he might plan. "OOooo, I'm shaking in my boots," I tease him with a small laugh. I know he'd never really put me through anything truly horrible.

It's about three hours later, we're talking starting to get what would actually be considered late. And I'm about four drinks in. I'm hoping that I look as cool and confident as I feel. It's like I'm completely liberated from anything holding me back, all my inhibitions, all of my doubts. I take one look at Jake as I walk towards him from the bathroom and I know that all of my doubts are silly. Of course I want Jake. Want to be with him. He's gorgeous. And I love him. And he loves me. And I know he'll take care of me during this. I know I can trust him. I stumble over my own two feet and his arms reach out to catch me before I hit the ground. See? I can trust him.

"Hey, Jake," I slur, trying to use a sultry tone with him. I look up into his eyes, my gaze slightly glazed over. I lean up on my tip toes and place a kiss on his jawbone, I can't quite reach his lips. Before I know it, I'm distracted by the song that is on and start singing along to it. I'm lost to anything other than the lyrics for a minute and then my attention turns back to Jake. I know I've been a little over the top for the past few hours, but it's the alcohol's fault really.

I try to give Jake my best damsel in distress look. "Do you think that we could go upstairs for a bit? I think I need to lie down." Not necessarily true, lying down could be okay. But mostly I just want to get him alone, somewhere we won't be interrupted. Somewhere that has a bed.

JACOB

Okay, major error in judgment. One harmless drink was one too many. I should've known not to let a teenager touch even a sip, especially not at a party like this where things could potentially get rowdy. Not that I can do anything about it now - my main responsibility at the moment is to Nessie. Nessie, who although just seemed to be happy and having fun at first, now looks like she's just a little bit too happy. As she walks out of the bathroom, it's bleeding obvious that she's drunk. Pissed drunk. Is she really that intolerant to alcohol? And then she starts to sway and trip. Immediately I reach out to grab her before she ends up sprawled on the floor.

"Hey, Jake." I don't like the slur in her voice and the way her eyes are looking up at me unfocused. And even less, the strong smell of alcohol in her breath. You wouldn't need my sense of smell to pick up. I frown to myself as she starts singing out of tune. Is that why she kept disappearing? To sneak in a few drinks while I wasn't looking? Because there's no way she only took one.

That's it, the party's over. I'm taking her home.

Then she asks if we can go upstairs. My irritation with myself for letting this happen instantly turns to worry. She tells me that she needs to lie down and, judging from her color, she really does look like she's going to fall over. I don't like the idea of staying here any longer than we need to, but I can't possibly let her go home in this condition…

With my arm still wrapped around her, I look around for that friend of hers who's hosting the party. What's-her-face. Marissa. There she is. "Hey, Nessie kind of needs to lie down. Is there a bed she could use for a bit?" The girl flashes me a knowing smile and a wink before pointing upstairs and saying, "First room to the left. All yours, hun."

She saunters off before I can give her a snappy reply, so all I can do is scowl at her back, which, by the way, is pretty much bare. How old are these kids again? I glance down at Nessie briefly before easily lifting her up into my arms. I don't want to seem like the nagging older brother, but this is over the line. At least I'm here to make sure nothing happens to her - but what if I wasn't? She's got some explaining to do - but not right this second. It's going to have to wait until she's sobered up some.

"All right. Come on, you," I say with a sigh before muttering under my breath, "Bella is going to kill me…'

NESSIE

Jacob seems a little tense as he holds me close to him and grabs Marissa's attention. Marissa is all too willing to give us a room. Not that she knows all of the crazy details, but she does know that I was planning on trying to sleep with Jake tonight. When she found out I wanted to take it to the next level with him, she was the one that suggested the party. She was the one that had thrown one last minute. She was the one who had suggested the liquid courage. I give her a grin as Jake sweeps me up into his arms. As he holds me close though, I wonder if I hadn't had one too many. I feel a little light headed, and instead of brave, I feel quite a bit wobbly. I mean I still feel brave and secure and all of that. But like I'm in a haze. And it's now in this haze that I realize I hadn't really planned an actual seduction.

I don't really harp on it for long because the worry dancing around in my stomach makes me feel nauseous. So I let the worries go, I give into the good hardy lightheaded, loose, nothing's holding me down feeling that the alcohol has brought me and I decide to wing it.

I look up into his eyes and that's when I see the scowl. He's not happy. Why is he mad? I thought we were having fun. But as he looks down at me, I know that he's upset with how I got to be in this state. I feel the need to answer his unspoken question, concern, whatever you want to call it. "What Jake doesn't know, won't hurt him..." I sing song as explanation to my extra drinks. Then my hand flies to my mouth as if I'd just let out national secrets as I begin to giggle uncontrollably.

Sometimes I wonder if he's really male. I mean, shouldn't this be his dream come true? His girlfriend drunk out of her mind? He could do almost anything and I would be willing. Because I love him. And because I feel all warm and fuzzy. And because his scent is intoxicating. And because his eyes are beautiful, even when he's angry. And because it's just logical that we eventually do all of this, we'll be in love forever, so why not now when I feel so relaxed and open. My giggles subside as I lean up and place a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. Yes, I want him. But even through my drunk haze, I want to wait for a bed. And he navigates into the room, closing the door behind him. I reach down and lock it.

He raises an eyebrow and I tell a little fib about my intentions. "We don't need some sick kid thinking this is the bathroom and throwing up on us." He does seem slightly repulsed by this idea and lets the locked door stay locked. He settles me into the bed gently and then starts to move a good distance away, sitting in the chair. "Come lie down with me..." I feel guilty for the whine in my voice, but even if I wasn't going to try and put the moves on him, I would want him close right now when my state is in question like this. I give him my best pleading face and wait for it to work.

JACOB

As I carry her upstairs, I can't help but feel like a moron for not keeping a better eye on her. "What Jake doesn't know, won't hurt him..." she says before erupting in a stream of drunken, girlish giggles. Ordinarily, it would be one of my favorite sounds in the world, minus the drunken part. But right now I'm fuming about the fact that she went about downing God knows how many drinks behind my back.

But try as I might, I can't get angry at her. Sometimes I forget that she's still a teenager, and that teenagers occasionally need to be protected from themselves. And I can't blame her for that, not when she's had to grow up as fast as she did. She's already managed to cope amazingly well as it is, and we all expected that. Because she's special. Because she's different from the rest. But we often place our expectations so high that we tend to forget that she's also human, at least in part, and it's only natural for humans to be subject to making errors in judgment. Actually, come to think of it, it's probably not entirely a human thing either – after all, her father's made many of those himself. But that's not the point. The point is that whatever the case is, we all have to come to a point where we slip up, and she's allowed to come to that point as well.

So no, I can't be upset with her. The only anger I feel is towards myself, for not being a better protector. She may have reason to slip up, but I simply can't afford to anymore. For her sake. Sure, I need to be here to catch her when she falls, but my main concern should be to keep her from falling in the first place. I should've known better. She relies on me to know better.

At the top of the stairs, she slowly stops giggling and plants a kiss to the side of my mouth. I feel the tension in my shoulders ease slightly, almost instantly. It's funny how she can have this effect on me, even when she's in such a state. When I shut the door behind us once we're in the bedroom Marissa pointed me to, Nessie reaches down and presses the lock button on the doorknob. I raise a questioning eyebrow at her, to which she responds, "We don't need some sick kid thinking this is the bathroom and throwing up on us." Okay, I guess she's right. I'm not cleaning up after anyone else. I just wonder though, if that sick kid might not end up being her tonight.

Even as I think it though, I feel my expression start to cloud over again at an even darker thought… the very fact that we're in a locked bedroom together. I mean, put a guy in a room with a girl who's so drunk she can barely stand still – it's just, well, asking for trouble. This could've happened under completely different circumstances. What if she was still with Mike and this happened? Or even if it wasn't Mike – if she had come to this party solo and some kid just happened to have set his sights on her? Normally, of course, despite appearances, Nessie would be perfectly capable of overpowering any guy and knocking him out flat – I have absolutely no doubt about that. But given her current condition, she could easily have been taken advantage of. Heck, if I were sick enough to want to right now, I wouldn't even have to try.

Gently, I lay her down on the bed before dragging a chair over from the desk and seating myself in it. I'm sitting right beside the bed, but she seems to be unhappy with that. "Come lie down with me..." she whines, giving me a little pout that, even when she's like this, looks so cute that I find myself having a hard time trying to resist it. It's not like we don't do it often enough, just lying down together, beside each other, drawing comfort from the closeness. But right now, with her being the way she is, coupled with the fact that this is someone else's bedroom, there's just something inappropriate about it that makes me hesitate.

But I can only deny her so much. With a small sigh and shaking my head at what she's gotten herself into, I get up and move onto the bed, but not the way she wants me to. I settle for sitting on the edge of it and reaching one arm across so that I'm leaning over her, my other hand brushing a few stray locks of hair away from her face. "Oh Nessie, look at you…" I say softly, my tone bearing an odd mix of disapproval and affection. How can I bring myself to be harsh with her now? Or ever, for that matter? "I should go get you some water."

NESSIE

Jake gives a small sigh as he repositions himself. He's now sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning over me. I pout for a few moments more, hoping to silently coerce him into lying down, but he doesn't take the bait. The voice in the back of my head. The quiet one. The one that's almost silent. The one that speaks common sense tells me that he really is the perfect boyfriend. Respecting boundaries, not wanting to take advantage of me, trying to take care of me. But it's not exactly taking advantage if he's my boyfriend, right? That little voice. The one in the back of my head. It pipes up again. It tells me that I'm secretly glad that he won't cross the line. After all, I'm not sure I'm ready for this. Ready to sleep with him, in the way where we do more than actually sleep. But I don't want to lose him. And I don't want to feel second best to my mother anymore. So I guess in a way, though not the way that matters I do want this.

I look up into his eyes and for a moment I get completely lost there. It's like the imprint takes over. All I see is love and concern and care. And all I feel is love. I feel no rush. I feel no hurry. I almost speak up and tell him to just take me home and then convince him to stay with me for just snuggling, since I know I'm probably bound to feel awful later. He would probably hold me then because there would be boundaries, my dad would hear our every thought. He could trust himself. Hell, he could trust me. I reach up and place a hand lightly on his cheek. "You're perfect, you know that?" I ask him, feeling for just a second like I'm truly cognizant of what I'm doing. I run my thumb over his cheek.

He then mentions leaving to get me some water. And all my insecurities surface and so does the plan, the drunkenness clouding everything, even the imprint, as I let the alcohol take over and control my actions. "Oh Nessie, look at you..." It's hard for me to decipher the meaning of the words. But I think maybe he means I'm pretty. That's what I think it means. Though that little voice tries to argue with me again, tries to talk me down, but I ignore it. I want to make sure Jake is mine and only mine in some way that I can actually measure. I grin at his words and lean up on my elbows, so our lips are barely apart. I shake my head lazily at him. "I think you should stay here with me," I purr at him as my hand moves from his cheek to his neck and I pull his lips down towards mine, closing the distance, as I give him a kiss like I've never given him before. Our kisses are usually chaste, not in a hurry, slow, loving. This one though is heated, it's trying to show him that this time I want more than just a few kisses.


	7. I Want You, I Need You, I Hate You

JACOB

When she reaches up and runs her thumb over my cheek, for a moment it's like her drunkenness has disappeared. She's gazing at me soulfully, those pretty eyes unglazed, telling me I'm perfect. "The only one who's perfect here is you," I tell her, and it's true. From the moment I first set eyes on her, I knew that she was the most perfect creature in the world. Even now, even like this. No matter what happens, no one could ever convince me otherwise. I give her a small smile as I gently close my hand around hers and stroke it lightly. Okay, I really should get her some water now.

But just as I'm about to get up, she props herself up, bringing her face to within a hair's breadth of mine. "I think you should stay here with me," she says to me, her tone sultry and enticing. Before I can even take a moment to decide that she's back to not being herself, her hand slides around to the back of my neck and pulls me down to crush my lips against hers, quite literally. And just when I'm about to pull myself away she starts to kiss me with a passion so deep that it practically knocks the wind out of my lungs.

At first I'm so taken aback that I do the only thing I can do: I respond. And I can't lie. I can't say that it doesn't feel good because it does. Our lips are practically on fire, melding together like they've never done before, and it's like I'm relying on her for air, relying on her to breathe. I feel myself getting sucked in almost completely. Almost. But as the kiss deepens, I start to realize with the part of my brain that's still functioning that this isn't Nessie. This is the alcohol at work here – not Nessie.

As soon as that thought hits me, I force myself to get a grip on myself. I don't want to push her away too suddenly, one, because I can hardly do it myself, and two, because I know it would upset her when she's in this state. So instead I try, though with little success, to slow the kiss a little before reaching up and bringing her hand down from my neck. "Nessie…" I breathe, pulling back slightly. "Nessie, slow down…"

NESSIE

When I kiss Jacob, it doesn't take long before he's kissing me back. And it's then that I am caught completely off guard by the passion that he's using. It's almost like I am his life force. And he is mine. We're the breath in each other's lungs. There's no one else in existence anywhere. I'm barely aware of the thumping bass coming through the ceiling from the music downstairs. All I can focus on is Jake and the way his lips feel against mine. A low sound of pleasure erupts from my throat as I feel so many new things for Jacob. I press my body closer to his, wanting to feel more of him. I still wasn't sure if I was ready for it, but in my alcohol induced haze, I was hungry for it. I craved it. I wanted it. I wanted Jake, every part of him. I wanted for our bodies to feel as close and melded as our lips. And our souls too. Mingling as one, even if for a moment in time.

I deepen the kiss and it's then that I feel Jake trying to put the breaks on. The breaks that I don't want. I need to be closer to him. He says we should slow this down and I don't understand why. Doesn't he feel it like I do? The desire? The longing? The love? What could he possibly be worried about? He's lowered my hand to my side, and I feel the heat of his muscles that moments ago were pressed against mine, slipping away. My lips immediately dive back for his. But now he's not responding at all. Did I do something wrong? Or does he not want this with me? Do I repulse him? I pull back, my body already aching for the closeness of his. I slowly pull myself into a sitting position as my eyes lock with his. I'm exploring them, trying to figure out what he's thinking, feeling. I can't decipher it, so I decide not to waste time on it. Don't waste time on figuring it out when you could get close to him. You could get him to see things your way.

"What's wrong?" I ask him quietly, a little pain and sting of rejection evident in my voice. But I don't let it deter me for long. I pull my body close to his once again and nuzzle his neck before leaning up and murmuring breathily in his ear. "Just relax." I nibble on his ear lobe before turning my attention to a sensitive spot on his neck. One that I'd found quite by accident a few days ago. One that had then caused our kissing to be put on pause. "We're going to do this eventually right?" I say to him, teasing the spot on his neck with kisses and gentle nips. "I don't see why we have to wait," I say to him, trying to use the sultry voice again. "I want to. I love you." I trailed my kisses up his jaw line, whispering, something that I maybe didn't even realize the full implications of. "I need you." And then my lips met his, but this time the kiss was slower, conveying more than just raw passion, but still showing my desire.

But that little voice, the one I was still ignoring, said that I should stop while I still could. I wasn't ready, this wouldn't make me happy. But a majority of me was certain that it had to.

JACOB

Her eager lips find mine again, but by now I've gotten a firmer hold of myself and manage to resist. In a foggy section of my mind I can see where this is heading, and I know we shouldn't be taking it there. When she realizes I'm no longer responding, she sits up and looks at me with confusion. "What's wrong?" she asks me, and the hurt in her tone crushes me just a little. It's like she thinks I'm pushing her away again. I don't want her to think that. Of course I want her, I just…

And in my moment of vulnerability, she drags me down again, into this whirlpool of heated passion. "Just relax," she murmurs beside my ear, and as if to give me a hand in doing just that, she goes in for my neck and starts driving me senseless all over again. My breath is becoming erratic and I don't know if I can ask her to stop again. Without really realizing it, my hands have found their way back to her again, starting at her arm before traveling down to her slender waist, feeling the coolness beneath the fabric.

She keeps reeling me back in so that I'm only half-taking in what she's saying to me right now. That we're going to do this eventually. That she doesn't want to wait. I don't want to wait either. I love you too. I need you t—

Hold it. Hold it, hold it, hold it. No, no, no, this isn't supposed to be happening. This—isn't—supposed—to be—happening. The heat is coursing through my veins and—stop kissing me, damn it!

Before I let myself get carried away, before I do something that I know we'll both regret later, I bring my hands back up and grip her shoulders, firmly pushing her away. It's going to hurt her now, but not as much as this could later if we don't stop. This time I clamber off the bed to keep this from going any further. I'm practically panting now and in the heat of the moment, I ask her in a voice that's a little louder than I intended for it to be, "Nessie, what the hell's gotten into you?"

I regret those words the instant they've left my mouth. I take a few moments to catch my breath again, waiting until I'm sure I can speak levelheadedly. "Sorry… Nessie… but… what's going on?"

NESSIE

His body is melding into mine. It fits there perfectly as we press impossibly close to each other as his apprehensions slowly seem to dissolve. I grin against his neck as I start to feel confident that I can get what I want tonight. No longer worried that my plan won't work. And then his hands are touching me again and I feel like I'm soaring. He loves me too. He does want me. As his hands roam down to my waist, I wrap my arms around Jake, whispering one more time that I love him as I begin to lower us down onto the bed.

It's then though that he gets tense. He grabs my shoulders roughly and pushes me away. I was wrong. He doesn't want me. He jumps out of bed, putting distance between us. And to me it feels like the Grand Canyon, like he's walked away and turned his back, not like he's just gotten off the bed. I feel like there's a great distance between us. And then he yells at me. His volume causes me to jump slightly. I wasn't prepared for that. I feel tears stinging the back of my eyes as I look down at my hands. What have I done? Have I ruined us? I feel silent tears running down my cheeks and then I look up at him, to make sure that he doesn't hate me.

Then his eyes soften and he stutters as he tries to ask the same question gently. Tries to repair the damage he thinks he's done. But it's my fault, I've done all of the damage. And there's no way to take it back. I can't say, how about we forget the last fifteen minutes ever happened. How about we pretend that I never got drunk. I don't think he'd go for that. "Jake...I'm sorry," I whisper. And then I try to remember what it was that I had done that was so terribly awful. I had tried to make love to my boyfriend. I had offered myself on a silver platter and he hadn't wanted me.

There was a time, I knew for sure, where he had wanted my mother. He had wanted it all with her. He had wanted a wedding and children. But he never talked about our future. It made me feel kind of like he didn't want one with me. Like I was his girlfriend just for right now. But I wanted a future with him. I wanted forever. I had only tried to love him. And he had pushed me away. He had rejected me. He wanted my mother, but he didn't want me. What was wrong with me?

"You wanna know what, no, no, I'm not sorry," I yelled back at him as I rose to my feet too, though a lot less gracefully than he had. I stumbled and swayed before catching my own balance after swatting his hands away. Right now, I'd rather hit the floor than have him help me. His rejection still stung. "There's nothing wrong with me. What's wrong with you? I don't get it. What more could you possibly want? When will it be good enough?" My throat hurt from yelling at him. I swayed again from the physical force with which I was speaking. I felt light headed. I wanted him to feel stung and bruised and rejected like I did, so I loaded up with the meanest thing I could think of to say. "I ha-" My words were cut off as I felt bile rising. My I hate you died on my lips as I retched and got sick all over Jake's front. Quite a few times.

I stared up at him dumbfounded at what had just happened and feeling slightly embarrassed, but he was not forgiven. In fact I couldn't help the small smile tilting up the corners of my mouth. Maybe he'd gotten what he deserved.

JAKE

Now she's apologising and starting to cry, and I want to beg her not to. I hate seeing her cry, hate seeing her so upset. I shouldn't have yelled at her. What's wrong with me? I never raise my voice with her. Ever. But… but I had to this time. I had to before things got too out of hand. I don't know if I would've been able to control myself if it had gotten any further than that. And she would never have forgiven me afterwards. I would never be able to forgive myself either.

But then the sadness in her eyes turns angry. So angry that I'm stunned silent as she takes her words back. "…no, no, I'm not sorry," she cries as she stands up. I see her legs wobble and my arms immediately go out to catch her, but her hands clumsily slap mine away before she carries on, railing at me. "What more could you possibly want? When will it be good enough?" But… when have I ever demanded anything of her? How could she think I'm rejecting her when… Can't she see that I'm perfectly happy with the way we are now?

The confusion turns to worry as she starts to sway even more. I take a step closer so that I can easily get hold of her in case she falls, but she's still got more to say. "I ha-" My eyes widen for a moment, but I hardly have time to register what she's about to say when all of a sudden she's throwing up. All over me. I quickly bend down to hold onto her by the arm and pat her back without even thinking to pull away. And she's not done yet. There goes my common sense, out the window and off to Timbuktu. At this stage there's really no more point in trying to stay clean, is there?

When she finally is done, she looks up at me with a rosy blush coloring her cheeks, and even a tiny smile starting on her lips. I stare back at her, neither of us knowing what to say for a few long seconds. And then I stand back a little and raise my arms, finally looking down at myself. I've got a load of her vomit soaking my shirt and dribbling down my pants in a way that's… not entirely charming. That's when I just can't help but start to laugh. "Well that's, uh… that's really romantic, Ness," I comment as tug at my shirt, quite thoroughly amused. "Are you quite done yet?"

NESSIE

As I empty the contents of my stomach onto Jake, he doesn't for a second get grossed out, or run away. He holds me close and pats my back. Which brings me more comfort than you could possibly imagine. I really do love him. And I still feel how I feel, my insecurities haven't evaporated, but maybe this is what it's about. Maybe it's about holding each other's hand through rough times and letting people puke all over you. Maybe that's what love's made of. And not sex. Or at least not as much about sex. But I still want it. I still want to feel like Jake is mine in a way that he's never been anyone else's. And I don't think that puking down his front counts. But maybe I should try this again sober, without the vomiting. I want some sort of assurance that we have a future. I almost ask him. Almost. But that would probably make me seem totally pathetic. And I'm already pathetic, standing here a blush on my cheeks, my boyfriend covered in my vomit.

Then he starts to laugh, loudly. And sure, I'm more laughing to feel less awkward and because apparently when you're drunk it's nice to laugh with other people, but I join in. I join him in laughing. I can see some of the humor in it. But mostly I feel like I've failed and messed everything up. When he says that it was really romantic, I blush even deeper if that's possible. A teasing retort comes to my mouth, but I don't know if he's forgiven me enough for that. I'm still angry at him. But I am sorry for the vomit. I nod to him, still giggling, "I think I'm finished."

Then I glance around the room. And I know where Marissa's sent us. I look at Jake again, trying not to carry any feelings over, but my feelings are so confused while I'm stuck in this haze. I hope he can tell from my eyes that I'm sorry, that I never meant for this to happen. I decide that for now, unless he decides to push about what everything was about, it would be best to kinda pretend it didn't happen. "We should get you out of those clothes," I say, but in a tone that he knows is jokingly sexy. I know he won't let me come on to him. I know he's not interested and at this point I want to avoid further embarrassment.

I stumble to the dresser and begin to dig through the drawers. "This is Marissa's brother's old room," I explain to him, "He's away at college." then I look up at him shyly and hand him some clothes. "They might fit." I'm hoping he won't ask any difficult questions until I'm sober and would actually be able to maybe lie to him if I needed to. And I hoped he saw the clothes as my peace offering. My silent apology.


	8. Can we do it in the Morning?

JACOB

She's laughing along with me and that makes me feel relieved. We're okay. At least I hope so. If all it takes is getting covered in her puke, then so be it. As long as it's not someone else's. "We should get you out of those clothes," she says seductively, to which I roll my eyes. Yeah, I am so turned on right now. Really. I watch as she goes through the drawers and pulls out some clothes that supposedly belong to Marissa's brother. "They might fit," she says, holding them out to me.

I grin as I take them from her. "Right. Back in a sec," I tell her as I duck out of the room and into the adjacent bathroom. Not that I'm shy about stripping down in front of her or anything, but given how everything's just been so inappropriate tonight… maybe not. Besides, I need to wash the vomit off my own clothes. Can't have it dripping all over Marissa's lovely carpeting, can I?

A few minutes later, though, I'm back in the room frowning grumpily. "How old is Marissa's brother again?" I ask as I walk in. She was right when she said they might fit. Oh, they fit all right. Only just. Any smaller and all the seams would've ripped apart when I pulled them on. "I feel gay in this," I complain dryly, and then I see the look on her face and give her arm a playful punch before passing her the glass of water that I picked up for her as well. "Shut up, it's not funny."

But I guess it'll have to do for now. I can live with it. Begrudgingly. Anyway, I have more important things on my mind. More seriously now, I close the distance between us and lift her chin up with my finger. "So… you can start from the beginning," I tell her, waiting for an explanation. She looks well enough for it now. I want to know what just happened here.

NESSIE

Jake emerges from the bathroom and I can't help but giggle slightly. The clothes look fit to burst from trying to hold his large frame in. Marissa's brother is probably a few years younger than Jake, but I had always thought of him as a pretty big guy. "It's better than the Nessie puke clothes," I point out to him. I smirk slightly. "But I dunno. Maybe the imprint blurs your judgment. You love me so much, you wanna be close to any part of me," I deadpan to him. I know that's not the case. Being covered in someone's sick is gross no matter what. Then I can tell that he really does feel uncomfortable in them. "You look great Jake," I reassure him softly, "You always do..."

He reaches me and hands me a glass of water. I lift it to my lips and take a small sip. He needs me to drink this water. He needs me to feel better. He needs me to sober up. He needs me to function in my right mind. Though I don't know if that place is a vast improvement from this one. After all that one's filled with worries and insecurities. Insecurities that I'm embarrassed to tell him about. Because he'll feel the need to placate me no matter how he feels. He'll want to fix me. He'll want to make me feel okay. And when we talk, I want him to be honest. Maybe he should be drunk when we talk finally. I stare into the depths of the glass. "Thanks."

And then he tilts my face up to look at him and asks for an explanation. I try to stall, but I doubt it'll work. "Can we talk about everything in the morning?" I ask him, trying my best to look like all I need is some sleep right now, not a deep conversation.

JACOB

She remarks that it's better than 'the Nessie puke clothes'. Okay, well… yeah… "But I dunno. Maybe the imprint blurs your judgment. You love me so much, you wanna be close to any part of me." I snort at that. Even her puke? Well I don't mind her getting sick all over me, but I'm not sure that would be my favourite part of her to be close to… Then she seems to step back a little and goes on to tell me that I look great. "Sure I do," I grumble, even though I'm not really upset or anything. "Bet all the hot modeling agencies are lining up outside right now. Look great… shyeah, thanks…" But really, this is nothing. I don't really care.

I watch as she takes a sip of water, but she doesn't look too enthusiastic about replying. "Can we talk about everything in the morning?" she asks, but I've seen that look before. When she was a little girl and was too lazy to pick up her toys at night… "Can I do it in the morning?" Yawn yawn. Only now I know it's not because she's lazy, of course.

Nope, not going to work. I'm tempted to tell her that I've seen this before, but I know that can be a little bit of a sore spot sometimes. I don't want her to feel like I still see her as a little kid. Besides, she knows well enough that I can see right through this little fib anyway. "No, I think you can manage, Ness," I say as I take a seat on the edge of the bed and gesture for her to join me. "I know what you were about to say just before you threw up," I point out, trying not to look too hurt. After all, she wasn't in the right frame of mind… right? "Won't you at least tell me why?"

NESSIE

He tells me that he knows what I was going to say before I threw up and I feel almost immediately ill again. Guilt burning hot in my stomach. How could I, under any circumstances dream of saying that to him? Sure it would hurt him, but it was too cruel, wasn't it? I wasn't in my right frame of mind. But something tells me that if my tired story didn't work, just saying that I was drunk wouldn't work either. "Oh, God, Jake," I exclaim, throwing myself onto the bed next to him. I look at him earnestly. It has to hurt him to know that I would consider saying it, no matter what the circumstances. "I didn't mean it," I insist. "I really didn't." I shake my head for emphasis. "I could never hate you." But how to explain?

"I was drunk," he gives me a disbelieving look, "And hurt and angry. And I wanted to lash out. I wanted to hurt you like I hurt. I wanted to reject you too." Wow, that sounded really awful out loud. "I'm so sorry Jake," I said quietly, "I promise I won't ever even think about saying it again." I then felt worried. "You don't hate me do you?" I worried aloud. What if he did? What if he hated me for saying it? What if he hated me for thinking it? What if he hated me for puking on him? What if he hated me for trying to seduce him?

I knew now that he didn't want me in a sexual kind of way. At least not now. So I wouldn't put the moves on him anymore. He didn't have to worry about that. Now I just had to worry about him asking about that and about my getting drunk. And I knew he would. And then I'd have to try and find words to explain that didn't make me sound like a dumb teenager.

JACOB

Her eyes are pleading with me to forgive her, but there's nothing to forgive. I know she was drunk. I know she was upset. But why was she upset in the first place? That's what I want to know. "I wanted to hurt you like I hurt. I wanted to reject you too." Okay… even though I had a sort of rough idea about what was going on, this still feels like I've just been slapped by her. Reject me? Too? She didn't really think I was rejecting her, right?

"Of course I don't hate you," I say quietly, giving her a small smile. "And I know, I know you don't hate me either. After all we've been through together, it would be unreasonable of me to have such little faith in you." Then with a deep sigh, I reach over to hold her arms and turn her body so that she's facing me. "But… that's not really what I want to know. I want to know why."

I nod towards my soiled pile of clothes that's lying in a heap on the floor. "Why did you get yourself drunk tonight?" I ask, more gently this time. There's always the 'how', but I figure that part's pretty much understood. What with this being a party and all, and her slipping out of my sight every so often, I think I can more or less fit the pieces together. That's not what's important. "Why do you feel like I've been rejecting you? Because we haven't had sex? Is that it?"

So okay, I said haven't, implying that we will at some stage. It's not like that's an unreasonable assumption, right? But actually, I hadn't really planned on being that blunt. It's just that, well, putting two and two together, what she said to me before and how she acted before getting sick - I mean, isn't this what it looks like? I just want her to be able to tell me if that's what's really been bothering her. I don't want her to feel embarrassed about bringing it up in plain wording.

NESSIE

When he says that he doesn't hate me, I can't help but smile widely at him and throw myself into his arms. I hug him tightly, my arms wrapped around his shoulders. I just want to stay like this forever where everything feels safe and comfortable. But then he continues to insist that he wants to know why. He still wants me to explain. I take a deep breath and slowly pull away, turning my body to face the door. But it only sits in that position for the smallest of moments before he turns my body to face his. His hands slowly move down my arms and away from my body. This action leaves me feeling pretty empty. And there's no way that I can talk without his silent support. His strength. I reach down and wrap one of his hands up in both of mine, and for a moment I just hold it, and then I begin to trace the length of his fingers, down to his palms with the tip of my finger to distract myself.

Then I take another deep breath and try as best I can to explain, but I know that I sound flustered. "Yes...no...not really...I don't know..." It was the truth. I didn't know what I was thinking. I knew what I felt. I was crazy in love with him. And at the moment I felt I deserved the padded room that would make that statement completely accurate. I continued to draw patterns on his hand as I talked, my eyes locking with his as I tried to find the words. "I just...I was talking to Marissa...she always gives the worst, wrong advice...I don't know why I listened...but..." my thoughts still sound disjointed. They are. I'm trying to explain, but I seem to just run in circles in my head. From sane thought to irrational one and back to sane again. "She's sooo stupid," that's one thing that rings true whether or not I'm being sane or irrational. "And so am I...I shouldn't have done that...got drunk...tried to get you to do something you didn't want to do." I was so focused on trying to say the right things that that fact didn't even sting, there was no time to think about it. "There's just no way I would've ever done that sober...sounded so important..."

What I wanted to really say was that I was worried. I was worried he had experienced more than I had. I was worried about what that might mean. I was worried that I was his girlfriend for now, but that if we didn't make it official somehow, maybe I wouldn't be forever. The imprint meant that he had to stay, he had to be in my life. It didn't mean he had to stay in love with me. I was worried that he already thought this way because he never mentioned the future. I was worried that one day he'd wake up and see me for what I was...and I wasn't even totally sure what that was yet...I'm so young, I'm not fully developed, I don't even know who I am...but I was worried that when he saw it, he would no longer be impressed. I was worried about everything. But I couldn't bring myself to say those words, to sound to this grown man like the scared teenager that I was.

Instead my alcohol addled mind blurted out. "Do we have a future?"

JACOB

I let her take my hand, smiling at how cute she is, the way she's distractedly drawing spirals on my palm with her finger. At the same time I listen to what she has to say, though for the most part it seems like she has no idea what to say. She mentions Marissa, and though I can see how Marissa may have put some ideas in her head, clearly she's by no means the main reason for any of this. Nessie would have never gone for such an idea if she hadn't been feeling insecure in the first place. "I shouldn't have done that...got drunk...tried to get you to do something you didn't want to do."

There it is. Well, part of it anyway. "You think – you thought I didn't want to?" I let her continue playing with my one hand while I use the other to bring her face closer to mine for a moment so that I can plant a kiss on her forehead. "Nessie, of course that's not true. It's just that I don't think we're ready for that yet." I pause for a moment. I think she knows herself why she isn't ready for it – it's my end of it that she feels uncertain about. I give her a sheepish grin, one that's probably accompanied by a blush that I hope she can't see beneath my tan skin. Dudes don't blush. "And that includes me."

I think I've got her attention now. She needs to hear this, that as far as relationships go, I'm pretty much on the same page as she is. "Don't look all surprised," I say with a little chuckle. "I mean, it's not like I'm afraid of commitment or anything – my commitment to you is forever. And ever and ever and you know that and I love that. And I wouldn't have it any other way. But to be honest, this is all new to me too."

Sometimes I can't help but think that she looks up to me as this big grown-up man who's seen and done it all, when that couldn't be farther from the truth. I'm still a regular guy, and in matters of the heart, she's all I really know. There was of course Bella, and I can't say that that wasn't real, because if it hadn't been real, then losing to Cullen wouldn't have hurt that bad. I did love her. But from the very beginning she was never mine. I suppose in short, things just have a way of working out to get to where they were really meant to be. Begrudgingly, I can admit that Bella was meant for Edward Cullen. Because then I can say that Nessie was meant for me. Truly and always, from the start.

"And I just don't think we have to rush things, you know? Time is, after all, on our side," I remind her. There's no giant clock looming over our heads, threatening to strike midnight. We can afford to let things play out at their own pace. We can afford to take the time to explore all these new feelings, and enjoy the experience. "We'll get there, eventually. And when we do, I know it's going to be special. But we don't need to get ahead of ourselves. At least not until we're both ready. I want to savour every moment, don't you?" At that, I can't resist giving her a nudge in the side as I tease, "Besides, do you really want to remember our first time as having happened while you were in a drunken stupor?"

When she asks if we have a future, I realize that there's a whole lot more to it. She's worried that all this is only temporary. She probably thought that sleeping together would somehow put some sort of a seal on our relationship. I guess I can see now that… well, I never really gave her any reassurance of this, that we did have a future together. Of course I see all that – getting married, maybe having kids someday, growing old together but not actually growing old. I just wanted her to have the chance to grow up first. To live life, without the pressure of tomorrow. But clearly I could've done better with this, because it's obvious to me now that she wants and needs to see that we're heading somewhere. Even though she knows in her heart that we are, she needs to hear it from me. "Of course we have a future. Of course I want a future with you," I reply in earnest, but then I'm quick to add, "As long as you want it too, that road will always be yours – ours." Because I still want her to have that choice, that option. I don't want the imprint to ever rob her of her willpower.

I wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her closer so that her side is pressed against mine. I wonder if she's drawing as much comfort from this as I am. It's the little things like this that really count. Somehow when we're together and close, I feel whole. Complete. And at this stage in our lives, and more importantly in her life, this is all I need. In time our feelings will surely evolve, grow stronger if that's even possible, and that's something to look forward to, constantly. But for now, I'm happy with the way we are.

"But there's nothing wrong with taking things slowly, one step at a time. Like the fortune cookies always say: don't worry about the future till you wind up forgetting about today." I see the look that she gives me and pause for a moment to think about that. Hmm, I'm not sure that sounds quite right. "Okay, whatever, so at least it sounds like something a fortune cookie would say, all right?" I lean into her and give her an affectionate squeeze, taking a whiff of her hair as I do. Vampires stink, but not my Nessie. She always smells glorious. "We have forever, remember?"

NESSIE

He says that he doesn't think we're ready to take this step. And I can't help but internally echo that sentiment. I'm not really ready. I wasn't ready. That's why I had to get drunk, to have the nerve to go through with it. Because honestly, sex, is a little scary. Not a lot scary because I know it'll happen with Jake, and it could only be a good experience if I experience it with him. He would never let anything bad happen to me, he would never let anything hurt me. I almost feel sorry for all the girls that don't get to be with an imprint their first time. It really does put you at ease. I mean sure it's great to be in love with someone. But the kind of in love you experience with the imprint is so much stronger, complete, unconditional. And there is no substitute for the reassurances and comfort that their mere presence brings you. But I knew I didn't want to rush really, despite my actions tonight. I did want to take my time with Jake and savor every moment, every step. I just couldn't get rid of that nagging voice in the back of my head that said that maybe he was comparing my kisses to my mother's. And how could I ever set myself apart from her, if this was all we did. But as he pulled me close to him, I realized that maybe it didn't matter. Maybe even if I was an inferior product somehow, all that really mattered was that, for now at least, he was choosing me. He wanted me more than anything else. And I knew as I leaned back against him that there was no substitute for this closeness. There was no replacement for how light and warm and carefree and loved I felt just right here, against his side. Nothing compared to the buzz I got from being around Jake, not even alcohol.

I want to tell him thank you. Thank you for not listening to me. Thank you for not taking the bait. Thank you for not letting me do something that I would have regretted in part the next day. I could never have fully regretted being with Jake though. I was going to say all of this, that was until he said he wasn't ready, until he admitted to not being too worldly in the ways of the heart. And I stared stunned. Had there really only ever been me and my mother? And how could that have been? Jake was an amazing guy. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad things turned out the way they did, and I love dad to death, but she really was an idiot to not see more potential in my Jake. If this is new to both of us, maybe we need to stop being so scared of actually talking. I look up at Jake. This was going to be hard to say. "I don't know why but ever since we morphed from a best friends us, to a something more version of us, it's been harder for me to talk to you." That was going to kill him, I knew it was. "But it's like...I don't know..." I struggled with the words I wanted to use, "Like I don't want to disappoint you. Or like I'm scared I'll sound dumb or immature. I mean I know you're commitment to me is forever, so I'm not really afraid of you going anywhere, but I am afraid that you might look down on me, or see me as too much of a girl..." I wasn't even sure if I was making sense. I wanted so badly to be a woman. To be a woman for him. To be someone who had grown into herself. But I just honestly wasn't there yet. And I wasn't sure how to pretend to be, or if I even could.

Then he proceeds to talk about us having all the time in the world. And I can't help but laugh, like I feel some sort of tension leaving my body. We did have plenty of time. We had eternity literally. I wrapped my arm around his waist as his was draped over my shoulders. The way he talked though, made me a little worried that we might move at a snails pace, that we might have this very same conversation 20 years from now, 50 years from now, and I didn't want that either. I didn't want to have to wait a literal lifetime until I knew all aspects of Jacob's love. I nudged him slightly and said jokingly. "If we're 200 and we're still having this conversation, you have to give in, mister, okay?" I teased, letting him know that I was okay with waiting. Hell, I wanted to wait. But that I didn't want to wait forever. I was interested. I had thought about it. Though I wasn't ready yet.

And then he asked the dreaded question, although he did it teasingly. But I felt tears flood the backs of my eyes anyway. I had been scared that I had to mark him as mine in some tangible way. I had been scared of so many silly things and I had almost thrown away what would probably be one of the best experiences of my life. I shook my head, unable to vocalize the words, still unable to thank him for not taking that from me, for not taking away the beauty that the experience of our first time together would be. "No," I finally spoke very quietly, "I don't want to...I didn't want to...thanks for not being an average guy." I squeezed him tighter to me, giving him a smile, even through the shame and stupidity that I felt at having set this whole thing up. Jacob really did love me, I realized. We really did have something that made our relationship different from his others, even if it wasn't tangible in any way. I just wished there was a way for others to see it, for others to know it. A way that would put my mind at ease some. A way that would get me feeling like I was out of competition with my mother.

And when he asked me if I remembered that we had forever, I nodded. And I was grateful for it. There's no one that I would rather spend my time with. And one day I would be mature, I'd be able to be more for him, like he is for me now. "I will always want a future with you," I told him honestly, interlocking my fingers with his. "Now and forever." I leaned up and kissed his cheek, I was sure that right now, with as awful as my breath probably was, he wouldn't appreciate a real kiss.

JACOB

She seems surprised to hear that I'm not ready either. I grin at her, wondering how experienced she thought I really was. But then she says that ever since we got together, like, really got together, she's been finding it harder to talk to me. That makes me cringe just a little, because she's always been able to talk to me, about everything. "Like I don't want to disappoint you," she admits almost reluctantly, as if she's apprehensive about telling me even this. "…but I am afraid that you might look down on me, or see me as too much of a girl..." And that makes me smile again. Not because I'm happy to hear that she's shy about that, but because I know that it's not because she doesn't trust me. And it's not something out of the ordinary because we're both being showered with all these new feelings.

I give her cheek a little pinch and laugh. "What, you want me to see you as a boy? I'm sorry, I'm not sure if I can do that…" I tease, even though I know exactly what she's talking about. "I would never judge you. Ever. There's no way you could ever disappoint me, silly. I love you for you." I hug her closer to me as her arm slips around my waist. "If we're 200 and we're still having this conversation, you have to give in, mister, okay?" she says. I burst out laughing at that. "Hmm, well… we might want to give it at least a few decades, you know, just in case you still feel like a girl or something…" Of course I don't really think that's going to happen. Sure, I would wait as long as she wanted me too. But I doubt either of us needs to wait that long.

But then she looks like she's going to cry and I worry that I might've hurt her with that. Until I realize that she's thinking about something else, about tonight. I had been right after all. She never really wanted to do this, not right now. I'm glad I managed to put the brakes on, because we would've both woken up tomorrow in a pool of regret. I know I would, at least due to the fact that I'd let her do something that she didn't really want to just yet. That would probably haunt her. And me.

Her fingers lace through mine as she tells me that she'll always want a future with me, just the way I'll always want one with her. It feels wonderful to hear that. Even though I might've known it anyway, I like hearing the certainty in her voice when she speaks those words. I smile as she gives me a little peck on the cheek. "Boy, I hope you know what you're getting yourself into," I tell her jokingly with a roll of my eyes. As I study her face again, though, I'm not so sure if we've resolved everything. If we've actually put everything out on the table. She seems content, but doesn't seem to be completely at ease. Or maybe it's just my imagination. "Nessie, is there something else that's bothering you?"

NESSIE

He pinches my cheek and asks if I want him to see my as a boy and this catches me so off guard that I chuckle at him. But then I wonder if he was missing what I was saying. I glanced up at him, looking in his eyes and knew that he knew what I meant. And then I rolled my eyes at him a little. "That's exactly what I'm trying to say," I dead pan to him. I lean against him and nuzzle my head into his neck, enjoying the feel of closeness that I have with him right now. The way that it feels to know that I can talk to him again, though, about anything, is a relief like I can't describe. It makes me want to melt. It makes me want to fall into a peaceful sleep in his arms because for the first time since we started dating, though it feels so much deeper than simply that, I feel at complete peace. And then I could tell him all about it in the morning.

But that doesn't seem to be what he has in mind. He wants to know tonight. And I don't know if I'm going to push him away in some way by saying it out loud. "Hey Jake?" I ask first. "If mom and dad will let you," I begin my sentence, knowing very well that they might not, I am after all coming home drunk from a party with my boyfriend not dressed in his own clothes. I might be in trouble. Their patience might be shot. "Will you stay with me tonight?" he looks worried for a moment and I shake my head. "I promise no funny business. I just want to feel close to you. I don't really want to have to say goodbye." And I wanted to have him locked in to a promise, so that even if he was upset with me, he had to stay. I wanted proof that I couldn't lose him by being honest. But when he seemed hesitant to respond, I decided that I had to plow ahead anyway. I had to gather my courage and speak.

I squeezed his hand where our fingers were interlocked and went back to tracing designs that only I could see on the back of it. Taking a moment to gather my courage, sure he would laugh at me. But once I said this, once I spoke, it would all be out there, all on the table. Maybe things would get better. I blushed a deep red before I even started speaking. "It's pretty silly," I warned him. "But I'm just a little bit jealous..." I admitted. It felt even sillier when it was outside of my head, vocalized for everyone to hear, "Of mom." I laughed softly, "That is a twisted sentence." I looked back up at him. "I mean I know you used to love her. And I know you still do, in a different way. And I guess you two were always close, but I just started to notice it lately..." I sounded lame. Like really lame. Like the queen of loserville speaking here. "And everything that we've done, you've done with her." I wondered if he ever thought about her, compared us. But that, even under our new talking policy was not a question I could vocalize. I continued quickly, so he wouldn't tell me how powerful the imprint was, I knew that. "And I know what we share is different...deeper, even. It's forever and it's unconditional. It's magic. But I wish there was some way for people on the outside to know that. Tonight..." my face felt like it was on fire right now, "was mostly about me wanting to have something special with you. Something that was just ours. Some way that I didn't have to share you with mom." And then I closed my eyes, too nervous to look at him until I got some sort of reaction.

JACOB

"Hey Jake?" she asks, still pressed to my side. I look down at her. "Hmm?" Then she asks if I'll stay with her tonight. I hesitate for a moment there, wondering if everything that was meant to play out tonight has already played out, or if there's still more. Even when she promises no funny business, I'm still not too sure about it. She still hasn't answered my question. And, to be honest, I doubt Bella will be too thrilled to see me bringing her daughter home in this state – would you leave your drunk daughter in her bedroom together with her boyfriend? I don't know if this is a good idea…

Before I can answer, she decides to go on and I decide to let the thought sit for a while. But what she tells me takes me by surprise. "…I'm just a little bit jealous..." I raise an eyebrow. Jealous? What would she be jealous of? I'm pretty sure we've spent heaps of time together over the last few weeks – at least whatever time I can set aside outside my job and patrolling. "…of mom." Wow. That sounds so weird. And wrong. And it really stings. She goes on to explain, but somehow I feel like I already know what she means by that. "And everything that we've done you've done with her." So that's the real reason for everything that just took place. She thought she would fix that by having sex with me, something Bella and I never did. I scratch my head awkwardly at the thought. I mean, we do live in a complicated little world here.

Because I can't deny for a moment that I used to be in love with her mother… her mother, of all people.

"And I know what we share is different...deeper, even. It's forever and it's unconditional. It's magic. But I wish there was some way for people on the outside to know that. Tonight... was mostly about me wanting to have something special with you." She's blushing furiously now, and it's not hard to understand why. When she closes her eyes, I'm sure she must be feeling so embarrassed inside right now. And to some extent I am too, if only because it's such a weird situation that we've found ourselves in.

After she finishes, I stay quiet for a few moments, trying to get my thoughts together and figure out how to put them into words. Because it's really not quite as simple as 'she didn't mean anything to me'. She did. She meant a whole lot to me. In that sense, and even now in a different way, as Nessie herself understands. "I can't lie to you," I confess, my fingers playing with her curls absentmindedly. "I can't say that I didn't love Bella, or that I didn't love her as much… but I believe that this is the way that things were meant to be. From the beginning, this is how things were supposed to play out."

"I do understand why you feel that way," I tell her as I touch her cheek tenderly, wondering if I could ever make this better for her. "But to me, I guess I feel that… we do share something special, even outside the imprint. We're in love. It's as simple and as pure as that… And being in love, and not just loving someone, is something I've never shared with anyone else. Not Bella, not anyone. Only you."

NESSIE

He says he won't lie to me. And he admits to loving my mother. And to loving her the same. The same. It echoes in my head. He loves her the same. It stings. I want to get up and run, I want to put distance between us. He loves her the same. But that's what I wanted to know, right? The truth. How he really felt about mom. But he's playing with my hair. And I can't tear myself away, that always makes me feel relaxed. And I need to be close to him, even if the truth is tearing me apart. I think that I may never look him in the eye again out of embarrassment.

Then he touches my cheek. And he again, says the perfect thing. He tells me that he's in love with me. And that that is special. Because he's never been in love with someone else. Which confuses me because he just told me, he loved my mother the same. And I don't love him the same as I loved Mike. I love him so much differently. So much more powerfully. And I wonder if that's because Jake is the only person I ever loved, or if it's because being in love makes all of that difference. My eyes snap open and I look at him, shocked. "You weren't ever in love with mom?" I have to hear him say it again. Because I know that something like that can't be measured, but it would be special, it would be important, it would make us different. It would make all of the difference to me.

JACOB

When she finally opens her eyes, she looks completely stunned. Like she hadn't expected that. Like she might've expected less. "You weren't ever in love with mom?" she asks, her words coming out almost in a squeak. "Never. Just you. Only you. Always you." I give her a smile to show just how much I mean it before planting a big, loud, exaggerated kiss on her cheek and then joking, "But right now, I'm not too sure if our 'forever' thing is going to happen…" Her face falls for an instant before she realizes I'm kidding.

"What, you planned all this without realizing that we're going to have to go back to your house and face doomsday?" I ask her with a sheepish grin. Sooner or later, we're going to have to deal with the parents. I already know I'm going to get an earful from Bella and a mean furious I'm-going-to-kick-your-sorry-ass glare from daddy, but I guess it'll be worth it. Worth it because, even though I hate the fact that I couldn't stop her from getting drunk, I did get to find out what Nessie was really thinking, and set her mind at ease. I would go to the gas chambers so long as I could keep her safe and happy. So what are two angry, freaky vampires, right? "Nah, don't worry. Even they can't mess with our forever."


	9. What a Difference Two Years Makes

NESSIE

It had been two years since Jake and I had first started dating. And every second of them had been amazing. Even when we were arguing. Even when I was in the midst of my teenaged angst. Not that I was necessarily done being a teenager. I had just turned 19, by human standards, a few months ago. But I didn't feel like the same girl that I was back then. I didn't feel like I was so unsure of things, like I doubted things. I didn't feel jealous of mom anymore. Not by a long shot. I had come to accept that Jake had loved my mother. But not enough, ultimately not in the right way. He loved me in the right way. He was in love with me. He wanted to be with me. There was no man in the world that I could find that wouldn't have loved someone before me. But I would also never find anyone who would love me, or be as devoted to me as Jake was. And I could never love anyone or be as devoted to them as I was to Jake. He was the first thing I thought of when I woke up in the morning. And the last thing I thought about when I went to bed at night. And he usually took up most of the daydreams in between.

I had taken his thoughts on waiting to heart. I wanted to wait until we were both absolutely sure, and until there were no ulterior motives. I didn't want my making love to Jake to be marred by anything. I just wanted it to be as comfortable as it could be. The two of us expressing our love for each other. The two of us showing the other physically how we felt, becoming one for even just a moment in time. I had been waiting to the point that I thought Jake might be getting frustrated, but he was patient with me. It had taken me a while, but I had finally come to the realization that our relationship was not a race. We had lifetimes. We could take our time, we had no time anything needed to be done by. And so I had savored every moment with him. Trying to spend every moment with him.

But lately we hadn't seen much of each other in the past few weeks. I had just started college and had a hectic schedule for classes, not to mention homework. And he had been busy with work and patrol. And to say that I missed him had been an understatement. He was like a drug to me. And the second I saw him again, tonight, when we were going on our date, I couldn't stop smiling, or touching him, or kissing him. When we had been at dinner, it had been marvelous to be out with him, but sitting with the table between us, that far away from him, had felt like torture.

We were now leaving the restaurant in his truck, and though I had started out in my seat on the opposite side with his hand in mine, I had somehow made my way across the bench seat until I was resting my head against his shoulder, his hand still in mine. I just couldn't stay away. We had spent all of dinner talking and catching each other up on news and each other's lives, but the ride from the restaurant had been pretty silent. And if I didn't know better I'd say that Jake was nervous, though about what I couldn't be sure. I knew he would tell me though, so I decided not to make things awkward by pushing. I just raised his hand to my lips, grazing them across his knuckles in a silent show of support. I would support him in whatever he needed me to.

When we were at dinner we had discussed going down to the beach, but as we had left, it had begun to rain, so disappointedly, I had thought that he would just drop me off at home. And I was not ready to say goodbye yet. So I couldn't help but grin when he drove through Forks and towards La Push. I was assuming however that he was taking me to his house. So when we stopped at the beach, I was confused. My forehead crinkled as I watched him open his door and get out, holding his hands out to me, to help me down. "The beach? In the rain?" I questioned. But he didn't move. And the look in his eyes almost seem desperate, so I easily complied, not wanting to ruin whatever he had in mind. I hopped out of the truck and into his waiting arms, letting him lead the way towards the beach.

JACOB

I don't think I've ever felt this nervous. Ever in my life. Even with all the certainty in our lives, knowing that we'll always be together, there is still the element of time. Time, and how this might not be the right time. Yet I feel it in my gut, that over the last two years our love has blossomed and grown and has now come to a point where we can finally take the next step. I don't think it's impatience, because despite joking about not wanting to wait two centuries, I would if she wanted me to. And even though we've been seeing little of each other recently, I don't feel like I'm doing this to try to stake a claim on her, because I believe in what we have, and I believe that nothing and no one can shake that. I guess it's more a sense of wanting to make our relationship complete, whole. To bring our lives as close as they can possibly be, melding them together as one.

But all the same, I can't help but feel unsure. Because I may know that this is what I want, but what if she still isn't ready to take such a big leap? And what about college – would she feel as if this would interfere in the other aspects of her life? Would she feel tied down by it? Besides, I'm not like one of those macho Hollywood heroes who can sweep a girl off her feet with an out-of-this-world romantic proposal – I'm just an average guy who just happens to turn into a giant wolf every now and then. It's actually kind of funny how we're connected so strongly in so many ways, yet at the end of the day, I'm still very much my own person, just as she is. And I guess despite my anxiety now, this is exactly what makes our love special and I know I wouldn't want to trade it in for all the certainty in the world.

As I drive us away from the restaurant, I realize that Nessie seems to have picked up on my nervousness. I smile as she brushes her lips against the back of my hand – it calms me considerably, and right then, I can see that it doesn't really matter what the outcome of tonight is. Of course I would be the happiest man on earth if she said yes, but even if she says no, it wouldn't be for lack of love. And it is her love that sustains me, so I can live with that, whatever her decision turns out to be. All I want to do now is show her what she means to me, how much she means to me.

When we finally get to the beach, she looks thoroughly confused. "The beach? In the rain?" Okay, so I guess maybe it's not the best idea in the world to get her all soaked and soggy in the storm and then ask her to marry me. In fact it seems almost pathetic, insisting on doing this right here and right now. But I guess I've already had my heart set on doing this here tonight, and for some reason, I just can't bring myself to wait, or to do it elsewhere. It's now or never. I give her a little shrug as she gets down and lets me put my arm around her. I reach into the back of the truck and pull out an old raincoat, draping it over her shoulders – even less romantic, but still.

Part of the reason as to why I've chosen this site is that it has always been a special place for us. We've shared so many good memories here, from the time she was little until now. This is where we really get to be alone in each other's company, just the two of us – away from her family, away from the pack. And I guess it just makes sense to me that I bring her here for this.

But I have to admit that there's a slightly more selfish reason for this too. Because apart from coming here to be alone with her, the beach is also a place where I feel I can truly be myself. I've always felt at home here, comfortable and relaxed. And that's the effect that it's having on me now. It's already doing wonders for my nerves, and I know that by the time we get to our special place, I'll have worked up the confidence to express it all to her, straight from the heart. No barriers, no boundaries.

When we do at last get to our favorite spot, I take a seat on the big rock that had always been there and gesture for her to join me. I'm pretty sure that by now she must think I've flipped. Or that I'm severely depressed or something. I mean, seriously, making your girlfriend sit with you on the beach in the middle of the pouring rain doesn't seem like a very normal, sane thing to do. But she doesn't get weirded out, doesn't even ask what's going on. Instead she sits beside me and gives me this look of genuine understanding, like I could make her do anything in the world and she wouldn't run away.

"Nessie, I've been… well, I've been thinking about this for quite a while now, and…" And then I see the puzzled look on her face and realize that… well, seeing her this way, normally this would be where I crack a dumb joke and ruffle her hair or tweak her nose or something… All apprehension dissolves as I flash her a grin and decide to throw all caution to the wind and poke some fun at her after all. "Oh come on, don't look at me like that. Don't worry, it's not like I'm going to propose to you or anything!"

And then I reach into my pocket and pull out the little box. I'd fashioned it just for her – having picked up a uniquely-colored seashell not far from this very spot, I'd used it as a lid for the carved wooden base. "Except… Except I am, actually," I say more quietly now, or at least as quiet as the background sound of the rain would allow me, as I get up and bring myself down to one knee in front of her. Whenever she makes me watch chick flicks with her, I always joke about the gesture being cheesy, but I've seen the way it brings that dreamy look to her face every time and I guess I want her to have such a moment too, in real life. Even if it may not be in the most conventional of settings.

I have to squint a little with the water streaming down my face, but I can still manage looking into her eyes, which seem to be trying to register what's going on. I hold the small box – the dark velvet cushion is going to get wet, but that's the least of my worries. Still holding her gaze, I open the box to reveal the ring inside it. It's not much, and it's not fancy – certainly not quite up to the more lavish Cullen standards. But it's what I could afford, and I think she would understand. The ring is a simple gold band with a small ruby encased in the middle. I'd thought about diamonds and how they were the norm, and if I had found them right for her, I would have just saved up over a longer period of time, no questions asked. But from the first time I saw it, there was just something about the red stone that spoke to me of her. While the strong color seemed to represent the love I've always felt for her, at the same time it also seemed kind of symbolic to me – symbolic of her pure, beating heart, something that has always been significant to me right from the start.

At this very moment, the rain seems to slow to drizzle, as if offering me a chance to speak. I snap it up. "I'm ready to take the next step, if you're ready to take it with me." Given the circumstances, I consider addressing her by her formal name: Renesmee. Just this once. I figure after all these years I can say it without twisting my tongue into knots. Yet somehow that would seem all wrong. It's a lovely name, I know, one that Bella had put together especially for her. But to me she would always be my Nessie, so I decide to go with my heart. Taking her hand, I place the open box into her palm, holding it there and drawing comfort from her touch as, smiling, I ask the question that I've been dying to ask for ages. "Nessie Cullen, will you marry me?"

The rain comes to a stop, as if heaven, too, wants to hear her answer.


	10. The Answer

NESSIE

He helps me out of the truck, wrapping his arm around me. And instead of concerned or worried like I had felt moments before. He is after all bringing me to the beach in the rain. So I couldn't say that my mind hadn't immediately jumped to something not being right. But his arm around me made me feel warm and safe. He reached into the back of the truck and pulled out an old raincoat for me, draping it over my shoulders. I gave him a smile in thank you, feeling like that could have been the most romantic gesture ever. Him happening to have it, and him offering it to me, going without himself. I wished I had something to offer him, even though I knew that the cold and rain didn't bother him because of his high body temperature. He couldn't get sick either. I snuggled into his side, trying to offer him the small amount of warmth I possessed.

I studied him as we walked. He seemed considerably calmer since we had arrived at the beach. Not that that surprised me. He always seemed more at ease here. More at peace. More relaxed. I loved that more than anything else about going to the beach with him...the way that it seemed to all slide away and he was completely himself. Just him and me here. And the closer we got to our spot, the more I realized that I didn't need to worry about anything. His step wasn't heavy, his eyebrows weren't drawn together, his shoulders weren't slumped. This wasn't some kind of bad news. He was just nervous. And I couldn't figure out why. But I would trust him, he could lead me to the ends of the Earth and I would follow him willingly trustingly, even blindly. He sat down on our rock at our spot and patted the spot next to him. And with no questions asked, I lowered down next to him, looking over at him with a look of complete trust. I squeezed his hand and waited for him to say what he needed and wanted to say.

He starts to try and tell me why we're here. And I look at him with so much concern. He's stuttering. He's stumbling over his words. I've never seen him this nervous before. Not even when he had been interrogated by the family before. He always seemed brave and composed and strong to me. And watching him struggle concerned me deeply. I didn't want to imagine any bad news, from small to big. Things had been going so well and we had not seen each other in a while, I selfishly wanted problem free time with him. And then he grinned and teased me about worrying. I was put at ease almost immediately, but now I feel even more confused. How can it be nothing to worry about, but have him this upset? His words shock me the most. I hadn't even thought about proposals or weddings. I mean, sure I had, but only in the hypothetical sense. And I had always felt sure that it was at least a few years off yet. But as he said that he wasn't proposing, I felt my heart sink, as I felt like I lost something that I hadn't even known I wanted until just that moment. I tried to keep the disappointment from showing on my face.

Then everything changed and it seemed impossible to keep up. I'm sure he didn't do it at super speed, but that's what it felt like. It felt like he said he was, pulled the box out, kneeled and opened it all so quickly. I just stared at him, eyes wide in shock, wondering if I could believe what was in front of me. Jake, kneeling in front of me. Something he had always said was cheesy, that I had always kept my opinions of to myself. I loved the gesture, thought it was the ultimate in romantic. And to see Jake, kneeling before me was a dream come true. The box was beautiful, something that I knew that I would keep forever. He had obviously spent lots of time preparing it, making it, carving it, fastening it together, so that it would be perfect for me. I felt tears prick the back of my eyes as I tried to focus, on the ring, on him, through the rain. It was the most beautiful ring I had ever seen, it was perfect. It fit the two of us perfectly. It wasn't traditional, but I couldn't have asked for a single thing better.

As he began to speak again, it was like it was really sinking in. I felt tears pooling in the back of my eyes at how touched I was. And how happy. My hands slowly reached out to cup his cheeks as if to prove he were really there in front of me. When I felt sure that this was truly happening a wide smile spread across my lips. I was glad he had brought me here now, to our place, rain or no rain, it was the right place to do this for us, the right way.

He says that he's ready to take the next step with me. And I feel like I don't have the voice enough to answer him out loud. I feel like I would choke on my words. Like my voice would crack, like I would never get the words out. I nodded my head and leaned down, pressing my lips to his in a gentle, tender kiss, one that says everything that words are failing to say right now. When I pull away I take a moment to control my emotions that are running away with me. "Jacob Black," I say, stunned by my own formal use of his full name, I never used it, unless I was formally introducing him to someone, which I hadn't done many times, but tonight, it seemed right, it seemed necessary, "I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you."

And then I did something that I hadn't done in years. All the excitement that had nowhere to go came out in a squeal as I bounced slightly on the rock. I felt childlike in that moment, but I was too thrilled to care as I held my hand out to him, so that he could place the ring on it. "It's beautiful," I whispered to him as he removed it slowly from the box. Sometimes I think he worried that I expected everything to be lavish, luxurious, since that's how things were with my family, but the truth was, most times I found them to be over the top. I liked things more how they were with Jake and I, simpler, relaxed, but still elegant in its own right.

"I love you."

JACOB

I search her eyes anxiously, not sure how she might be taking this, afraid that maybe this wasn't the right time for her after all. But her kiss says it all, wipes all the uncertainties away. I kiss her back, showing her my own feelings in this, in a way that I can't possibly express in words. And then she addresses me by my full name – not a common phenomenon by any means. It's enough to grab my attention. This is it. And when she tells me that she'd love to spend the rest of her life with me, it's like everything in my world has finally clicked into place. This is what we both want. This is where we're both headed. Together.

She takes me by surprise when she lets out a loud squeal of excitement, one that I find so cute that I just can't help but laugh at. Grinning from ear to ear now, I reach into the box and pull out the ring. She tells me it's beautiful, though that may be in part for my benefit considering the luxuries she's used to. Gently, I slip it onto her slender finger and, well, even though it's not really Cullen material, seems to fit her perfectly. Like it was just made for her.

"I love you," she says, her emotions ringing clear in every word. I couldn't possibly ask for more. Feeling so happy I think my heart might just burst, I wrap my arms around her and give her quick squeeze before pulling back slightly and whispering in her ear, "Love you too." Then I lower my hands to her waist and bring my lips down to hers again, kissing her more deeply, more passionately than before.

To seal our engagement, here, on our little spot on the beach.

NESSIE

My lips move in sync with Jake's, like they were made to fit against his. He took me by surprise a little when he deepened the kiss, made it more passionate and then I found his warm arms around my waist. I slowly slid off of the rock and into his lap, straddling him, my arms wrapping around his neck, pulling his lips closer to mine as I kissed him even more deeply. I lowered one hand to feel the muscles of his chest, rippling under my hand as his hands moved over my back. My hand moved to rest on his heart. It beat slow and steady, rhythmically, in a way that made me feel peaceful. Not at all what hearing my heart beat fast as a hummingbird's wings all the time must feel like for him. It must sound chaotic, even frazzling at times.

My hand moved down and slipped under his shirt to gently touch his scorching hot skin. Skin that I suddenly craved to feel against my own. I wanted Jake. I didn't want to wait anymore. I wanted to feel what it was like to be completely a part of him. It would be the last physical barrier of our relationship. Before I got too carried away, I pulled my lips just a hair breadth away from his and said softly. "Let's go back to your place." While I felt sure that it wouldn't matter where Jake and I made love, I had a feeling that I'd prefer a bed for my first time, not the wet, sandy ground of the beach.

JACOB

I feel a low groan rumble at the base of my throat as her hand travels down from its place around my neck to finds its way under my shirt. It's impossible not feel a sense of longing for her right then, even though she's right here with me, kissing me like there's no tomorrow. But I promised I would wait, and I intend to keep that promise. Besides, kissing like this definitely has its merits.

But then she pulls away slightly and suggests going back to my place. For an instant I'm almost afraid she might have heard my thoughts or something, but then I realize that she might be worried about us getting too carried away right now. I grin at her before diving in for one last quick kiss and then, taking her hand in mine, slowly helping her up again. I'm glad she wants to come over, excited even to have some alone time with her. Just the two of us, in each other's company. I would put anything else on hold for that, even my aching desire for her.

I've always known every contour of her hands, how they fit into mine, and so it makes me all the more aware of the presence of the ring on her finger. Aware, in the most pleasant sense. "Come on," I say with a warm smile as I nod towards the direction of the truck.

NESSIE

I smile up at Jake as he stand up and helps me to my feet. Tonight is going to be a perfect night, in every way possible. Tonight I'm going to share everything with Jake. I stand still for a moment, studying first how beautiful he is, amazed that he would chose me, that fate would have chosen me for him. And also extremely happy for that. happier than anyone could imagine. Out of anyone in the world, over all the generations that would ever exist, fate chose me for him. And they had been right. The two of us were more than perfect for each other. I loved him more than life itself, and vice versa. I was certain that even among the other imprints no one's love was as strong as ours, that's how deeply I felt it. And then I studied our interlocked hands as he said come on and started to lead me in the direction of the truck.

The drive home was silent as I stared down at my ring, admiring it. It shimmered in the street lights as we drove, making it shift from dark to light. I couldn't resist leaning up and kissing his cheek as we drove. "Tonight was perfect."

We reached his house, quickly, the small, comfortable home located close to the beach. I let him help me out of the truck. And I decided that I wouldn't be nervous, I would be forward. I would wear my heart and intentions on my sleeve. If we were at The Cullens' I would pour us some wine to celebrate, but I was pretty sure that Jake didn't have anything of the sort here. So instead I went to the fridge and grabbed out two cold beers. I know I'm under age. But I don't think he'll say anything, especially since I've not got any grander schemes up my sleeve. "To celebrate," I said to him when he looked worried. He opened them both, taking a long sip of his. I raised mine to my lips. I'd never had beer, only wine and liquor. I took a small sip and my face twisted up. That was really gross. I abandoned mine on the counter and so Jake did too.

I leaned up and kissed him again before echoing his words from the beach. "Come on," I said with a sexy smirk, starting to lead him to his bedroom.

JACOB

The drive home was for the most part quiet, but this time it held none of the nervousness like it did before. I have Nessie beside me, not just now but always, and life sure is good. I look over at her and find my heart warming up at the sight of that beautiful smile on her face. Nothing could possibly pull me down from Cloud Nine now. Nothing.

Back at the house, I'm about to head for the living room when Nessie makes a stop at the fridge. Right after dinner? I follow her into the kitchen to see what she's getting out. Beer? "To celebrate," she tells me in response to the look I give her. I give a shrug before opening up both cans and handing hers to her. "If you say so, but I don't think you're going to like it," I warn her, just seconds before she screws up her face, making me laugh. I'd kind of expected that. "Told you," I say as I set mine down on the counter beside hers.

And then she kisses me again and hell, who cares about beer? I'm just about responding to it when she pulls away and takes my hand. "Come on." I raise an eyebrow at her as she begins leading me towards the bedroom. There's a look of invitation on her face, one that I can only half-decipher. Half, because I think I might be getting a little ahead of myself here. "Oh?" I ask, giving her a questioning look.

NESSIE

I look over at Jake when he doesn't willingly come along. And he seems like he's waiting for me to say it. I think he wants me to. He wants for this to happen as much as I do, maybe more. But he wants to hold back. He wants to be sure I'm sure. He doesn't want there to be any regrets. And there would have been a time where I would have felt rejected by that. But not any more. Because over the years, Jake's self-control and strong will to do only what was right for me had saved us from quite a few awkward moments and heartbreaks.

I smile as I move back over to him. I brushed my hand across his brow, along his hair line. My hand trails down to his cheek as I look up at him, my eyes never wavering from his. I want him to have all of the assurance he needs to know that this won't be a mistake come tomorrow. "Jake, I love you," I explain to him. But in truth there's nothing new about that. It's not news to anyone. "And tonight, it just feels right. I don't want to wait anymore. I want to be with you."

Then I allowed for the fact that maybe he didn't think the time was right. But that didn't sting, not badly at least, I knew we'd be together forever, and like he had said many years ago, we had plenty of time. We didn't need to be in a rush. "No pressure...either way, I would like to stay tonight..." Tonight we had started a life together and even if all that happened was he held me all night long, I wanted that. I wanted that closeness. And I was pretty sure he did too.

JACOB

I continue to look at her questioningly as she brings her delicate hand up to my face. "Jake, I love you," she says. And it's always something I like to hear. Her saying my name, her telling me she loves me. It's not that I don't know it – I know it with all my heart and soul. But just coming from her lips makes it so much more real. "And tonight, it just feels right. I don't want to wait anymore. I want to be with you."

I guess I'd sort of seen this coming. Maybe partly on the beach, and more so after the beer, or not drinking the beer. But I didn't want to acknowledge it until she did. I didn't want it to be forced, even though I did want it. When she tells me that she doesn't want to wait anymore, I look down into her eyes, searching them closely. This time it's clear that this is what she really wants – for what it is, and not for any other reason.

"No pressure...either way, I would like to stay tonight..." she says, I suppose giving me the option to object to it, although it seems like her own mind has been made up. Reaching up, I take her hand from my cheek and bring it down, holding it against my chest. "You sure about this, Ness?" I ask her, my tone soft but serious. I do want this, want her, but I won't let either of us get carried away tonight if there's even the tiniest room for doubt. "Absolutely sure?"

NESSIE

Jacob reaches up and takes my hand from his cheek and brings it down to his chest. I can feel the rhythmic beat of his heart. His heart that seems to beat just for me. As I know that my heart beats only for him. He asks again if I'm absolutely sure. I laugh softly and nod up at him, moving closer to him as I do. "I'm absolutely sure. As sure as I am that I want to spend forever with you."

I wrap my other arm around him, pulling him closer to me, so I can feel his soothing warmth. Along with the beat of his heart. It puts me completely at ease and erases any nerves I had. This would be after all both of our first times. I had nothing to be nervous about that he probably wasn't nervous about. "No regrets," I promised him, still holding his gaze.


	11. Whispers in the Dark

JACOB

Her eyes are clear, telling me everything I need to know. She's ready for this, and so am I. We're taking our relationship another step further, sealing our engagement in the most perfect way possible. "No regrets," I echo with a growing smile that seems to be mirrored on her face.

I lower her hand from my chest, slipping it around my waist before letting my own hand reach around to play with her curls. Slowly, I bring my face down to let my lips meet hers, grazing softly against them.

NESSIE

He agrees with me, saying that he wants this too. And that he will also have no regrets. And that's good to know. Even though every part of me knew it before. It's still amazing to hear. To hear from his own lips that he loves me that much. He takes my hand away from his chest and wraps it around his waist again. He plays with my curls, the gentle tugging making me relax. I looked up into his eyes, seeing nothing in them but love and the beginnings of lust. The fact that he could lust for me, making me grin a little.

And then he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine ever so gently. My Jacob does everything perfectly. Even now, when we're talking about making love, he's not trying to rush anything, he's taking his time with me. And I want to take my time with him. We should both enjoy this, completely. My eyes slip closed and I use my hand around his waist to pull him closer. Tilting my head up to be able to kiss him deeper. As my other hand tangled in his hair, pulling lightly at the hair at the back of his neck.

JACOB

As she starts to kiss me back, the passion left over from the beach steadily rising to the surface, the muscles in my body start to relax. I move in so that our bodies are as close as they can be, lined up perfectly, and I can practically feel her melt against me. I was made for her, and her for me. I know it.

"I love you Nessie," I murmur to her between kisses. In this moment, it's as if every single one of my senses has been heightened to focus on her alone. Her gentle touch. Her heartbeat. Her scent.

NESSIE

As we kiss it changes from slow and gentle to the passionate kisses we shared on the beach. I feel his muscles relaxing as we kiss with mounting passion. And as his warm hands press into my back and as he brings my body to be flush against him, every part of my body fitting into the contours of his perfectly, I feel all of my muscles become jelly as I melt perfectly into him. All too aware of his hands on my back. Of his solid chest pressing into mine. Of his scent. He was taking over every sense I possessed.

"I love you too, Jake," I murmured back between kisses, "So much." I craved him, pressing harder against him, my hands sliding down his shoulders to wrap around him, my hands roaming his back.

JACOB

She's so close to me, and she's mine. Both those thoughts alone are already trying to make me get way ahead of myself, way more than I should right now. I want to make this good for her, even though I'm kind of hoping for a bit of luck with that, to make up for my lack of experience. But even so, I know that it was the right thing to do, waiting for her. Because I can't imagine wanting to share this with anyone else in the world right now. As passion starts to take over, I lift her up and wrap her legs around my waist, continuing to kiss her as I move us the rest of the way to my room.

NESSIE

As we kiss, he lifts me up into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. I give a small giggle of delight as he carries me into the bedroom, closing the door behind us. As he gently lays me down on the bed, I start to feel nervous. I mean, I know he has no experience, but neither do I. What if I do something he doesn't like? Or what if he doesn't like what he sees? I try to convince myself that that's crazy. That this is Jake. That he loves every inch of me. And that he'll help show me what he likes so that I know what to do and how to do it right for him. Good for him.

I crawl up the bed until my head is resting on the pillows, smiling up at him as he crawls over me. The need in his eyes, the fact that he's like a wolf stalking his prey right now, it's all a turn on. It's really hot. I spread my legs wider to make more room for his large frame over me.

JACOB

Her delighted giggle rings like music to my ears, making me grin widely. I love that sound, the sound of her laughter, the sound of her voice. As I lay her down, I take a moment to just take in the sight of her. My Nessie is so beautiful, so perfect. She has the most gorgeous smile, and that blush. I've always loved it when she blushes.

As she moves up the bed, I crawl after her, my hunger for her growing, burning. Once she's comfortable, I settle over her, between her legs, She looks at me, both a little nervously and a little expectantly. I bring my lips down to her neck, licking and nipping at her smooth, cool skin, eager to set her mind at ease, even though I'm nervous too. I'm worried about whether or not I can make this good for her. I know that deep down, we're both hoping for the perfect night together. It's what we've been saving ourselves for. But realistically, I doubt it's going to happen. I just hope I'll be able to prove myself worthy of her, at least, and let her know what I already told her on the beach, what I always tell her – how much I love her. Only this time, it'll be on a physical level.

NESSIE

He looks into my eyes and I feel all my worries begin to slip away. All I see in his eyes is love and trust. And I love and trust him back, completely. I smile at him to let him know that everything will be fine, that anything he does is going to be good for both of us. And I can see that he feels the same about me.

And then his lips move down to my neck. And I know that he's doing this to put me at ease. To ease into everything we're going to do tonight. And it's good because this I'm familiar and comfortable with. I tilt my head to the side, giving him better access to my skin, my fingers twisting into his hair, pulling his lips closer to my skin.

JACOB

She presses me closer, engulfing me in her scent, the one I've loved for years. I breathe in deeply, letting it take over me like a drug. That's what she is to me. A drug. A drug that I can't go without. A drug that I keep needing more and more of. But it's a good drug. She's good for me. And hopefully I'm good for her too.

As my lips travel further down to tease her open collar, I slip my hand under her shirt, running it over her stomach, feeling her, skin to skin. With each passing moment, I feel the need and desire for her pulsing stronger and stronger.

NESSIE

He presses closer to me and I breathe in deeply. He smells amazing. He always smells amazing. Like the garage he works in and the woods he runs through. It's all musky. And it's intoxicating. I can't get enough of him. I want to be surrounded by him all the time. And I can't wait to be completely engulfed in him, completely filled with him tonight.

His expert lips tease their way over my skin down to lavish attention on my collar, left open from my shirt. His hands slip under it, moving gently over my stomach. His warmth feels amazing, in stark contrast to my cold skin. I moan, my hands slipping from his hair to move over his back, caressing him through his shirt.

JACOB

Every indecent thought that I've had of Nessie ever since we started dating properly starts to resurface, making my pulse race. I want to hear that again. I want to hear her moan like that again, longer and deeper. I want to inspire in her the same passion that I'm feeling for her right now. Love, lust, all of it.

My hand rubs soothing circles on her stomach, slowly inching further up, to the border of her bra. I feel myself stiffen just at the thought of seeing her. But then for a moment I'm worried about later, when I do actually get to see her. Or rather, just before that. I know it's stupid, but I don't exactly know how to undo a bra. I mean, it's one thing to see it in someone else's head, but it's a whole other thing to get how it actually works. Okay, so it can't be that hard, but it's not like it would be cool to say hold on Nessie, get up and turn around for a sec. I guess I could do the wolf thing and rip it apart, but that would probably ruin the atmosphere.

It's one of the many things that crosses my mind, and it's getting on my nerves a little that my focus is kind of skewed. But I decide I can ignore it for now. If we're going to do this, there's no point in fussing and spoiling the mood. I'm just going to take every moment as it comes. Every touch, every breath, every soft, sweet moan.

NESSIE

His touch is igniting my whole body on fire. Maybe it's because I know this time that it isn't going to stop. That neither one of us will be putting on the brakes, so I truly can just lay back and enjoy every part of him. Everything he's giving, and every inch of his body as I give back. His hand moves in slow circles over my skin and it's so soothing, that I feel my muscles relaxing, even as I feel other parts of my body ramping up, my body melting into his completely. I feel so many feelings I've never fully felt before.

My hands move over his back to the bottom of his shirt and then they slip under and I begin to try to rub the tension out of him. He seems a little distracted and I think it's because he's thinking about this too much, trying to make it perfect for me. And I hope that this might remind him to relax. We're not in a race here. Nor could anything that I share with him ever be imperfect. Tonight would be amazing even if there were a few hiccups.

I'm just beginning to wonder if I'm having any effect on him at all, when I feel him stiffen against my leg. And my eyes fly open, and despite myself I feel some tension flowing back to me. It's not that I don't want to. It's not that I want to stop. It's not that I don't love that I have this effect on him. As is proved by the moan that is again ripped from my throat as I press closer, my body rubbing against him almost of it's own accord. But feeling him brings this all into a new reality. And his size isn't exactly setting my mind at ease either.

JACOB

As she starts to rub my back with her cool hands, the contrast of hot and cold both turn me on and help me relax. But then her eyes fly open. It takes me a moment to realise why. And when I do, I can't help but feel a little embarrassed by it. I mean, it's not like I'm ashamed or anything, she makes me feel good and I like that. But it's still a little awkward, and it seems to trouble her. Just a little, because then she's moaning and mewling again.

With a soft, slightly nervous chuckle, I bring my lips back up to hers. "This okay?" I ask her as I start to touch her breast, tentatively at first, wanting to be sure this isn't too much for her. Guess I'm going to have to tackle the bra issue kind of soon.

NESSIE

He gives a soft, nervous chuckle. And I immediately feel a little guilty for giving him any doubts, concerns or reservations. It just caught me off guard at first is all, but it's not like I have a problem with my fiancé being happy to be with me like this. It's not like I wish I wasn't making him feel good. I was hoping that I could. That I could make him feel as good as I felt right now, as good as he made me feel. I wanted to communicate that to him, but I was pretty sure it would ruin the mood if we had a conversation about it.

My lips meet his hungrily. I try to put everything that I was thinking and feeling into that kiss as his hand reached up and squeezed my breast gently, tentatively. "This okay?" he asks me, and I can still hear the nervousness in his voice. "Mmmhmm," I murmur to him, against his lips, as we kiss. I pull back long enough to say to him, "It's more than okay."

My hands creeped around to his chest, roaming over it. I give his shirt a small tug upwards, wanting to remove this barrier between us.

JACOB

Relieved to hear that she's enjoying this, that it's not making her too uncomfortable at all, I allow myself to lose myself in her again, to relax before we start to delve deeper and deeper into unknown territory. When I feel her tugging at my shirt, I gladly oblige, pulling it all the way off and chucking it aside before working on hers. I groan as her hands come into contact with my skin again, igniting sparks of electricity everywhere they touch, sparks that I'm sure she feels too.

All this may be kind of awkward right now, but nothing has ever felt this right before, than just the two of us being together, like this. There was a time when Nessie used to worry about my history with her mother, but surely now, she can see that she never had to. Even though it hurt then, I guess I'm grateful now for Bella's resistance, her rejection, because it's allowed me to do good, and do right, by the one I'm truly meant for.

NESSIE

He takes his shirt off and chucks it carelessly into the room, returning his attention immediately back to me. And my eyes took in the sight of him. Even though I saw it all the time, the sight of him topless, never seemed to stop astounding me. He was so perfectly sculpted. I drank him in with my eyes as his hands began to work on my shirt. I lifted myself off of the mattress, sitting up as he removed the shirt from my body, also tossing it carelessly aside. And I could also care less where the shirt went as his hands moved back down to knead my breasts through the material of my bra. And his lips found mine again.

My lips moved in synch with his. The passion causing me to moan again. My hands roaming over his chest and back. He pinches my nipples and again I moan, this time my back arching, pushing me into his hand. I want to feel his skin against mine. But I don't want to rush him or this. And right now, I'm beginning to realize how thankful that I am that this is both of our first times, it means we have room to figure it all out. That we can fumble and be unsure and just experience this and figure it out together. And I would hope that if he wanted something from me, he'd tell me. I take one of his hands and lead it to the back of my bra. "Take it off, Jake," I say, my voice taking on huskiness, being fueled by our desire, "I need to feel you."

JACOB

Her words are driving my senses crazy. It's too much of a turn-on to know that she wants and needs me as badly as I do her. But my nervousness sinks in when she guides my hand to her back. Okay, let's figure this out. I feel for the hooks and then fumble around with them. But they're so tiny and flimsy to my large wolfish hands that, in my over-eagerness, the next thing I know, her bra has come undone with a loud snap. By the sound of it, that probably wasn't quite the way it should have been done. "Crap." The word slips out of my mouth before I even realise I was going to say it. I clear my throat and feel the heat rise to my face as we share an awkward moment. So much for being a romantic stud, I guess. But then the tension dissipates as she starts to giggle and I let out a laugh myself. "Sorry," I mutter sheepishly as I slip the bra off of her body and toss it to the floor with our shirts. I vaguely wonder if this means lingerie shopping. "Gonna need more practice." Hopefully I'll have the chance to get better at this in due course.

But for now, that one little blip is out of the way. And for the first time, I take in the sight of her, and it leaves me in complete awe. She looks a little nervous as to how I might react to seeing her, but seriously, it's got my pulse racing so bad, and I'm sure she's picking up on that. What can I say? She's gorgeous. I've thought about it before, even fantasised about it before, more recently of course, much to Edward's displeasure. But all my indecently hormonal fantasies have done her no justice whatsoever. She's absolutely stunning, more so than I could ever have imagined. And I don't hesitate to tell her just that. "Nessie, you are so beautiful." And then my growing lust for her wins. I grin as I lay her back down once more, all business again as a low growl rumbles from deep inside my chest.

NESSIE

He pauses and fumbles for a while with my bra. Before I can even offer him help, as I realize that he's never done this before. And that somehow puts me at ease, offers me some kind of comfort. But then the bra snaps. And I think that it might be completely broken. He says crap before he can even think about it and then, Jake, my Jake, starts to actually blush. And as I stare at him a minute, I just start giggling. I mean, how else can I react. And I'm touched, I think it's cute that he lacked experience and broke my bra because of it. He lacked experience because of his love for me. I giggle that is until my own face starts to turn red as his gaze fixes on me.

And then I'm caught off guard by the look in his eyes. A look that says that he's in awe of me. And then he tells me I'm beautiful and I grin broadly at him. I knew instinctively that it was a lot like me, my imagination could never do him justice. And I liked it that way. I was always enamored by him that way. He lowered his lips back down to mine, as he lays me back down. He growls possessively and I giggle again, crawling up the bed again as I lay back, to be comfortable. But that growl did something to me. It ignited another fire in me. It made my desire for him grow. And my eyes glaze over with lust. "You'll get plenty of practice," I promised him. If the rest of anything we did made me feel as good as just this did, then I would want to do nothing else.

JACOB

Plenty of practice. I like the sound of that. I like that a lot, even though I'm still not too sure what to expect. I settle comfortably between her legs as my lips capture hers again. Okay, so like, the perv in me is really starting to creep his way to the surface. Hell, he's taken over. It's a little weird. He's all excited to see Nessie's breasts and he wants to know what they feel like. I mean, seriously? I'm referring to my sexed-up alter ego in third person, if Nessie knew what was going on in my head she'd be so turned off.

But yeah. Is it wrong that I want to know how her breast would feel like under the palm of my hand? I used to change her diapers, for crying out loud. And yet instinct is getting the better of me, and my hands begin to feel her as if by a will of their own. I love Nessie and I know she loves me too, in the same way. I know in my heart that this is the way it's supposed to be now, no matter how things used to be in the past. I want her so badly. I want all of her. I want to take her and I want to show her how much I love her, in every way possible. I want to make this woman mine and make myself hers. More than ever. As she presses herself closer, my hungry lips break away from hers, trailing down her neck to explore new territory.

NESSIE

His lips meet mine hungrily. And I return his kisses just as passionately. I feel the tension building in my body with every touch of his skin against mine. His hand in my hair. His hand on my cheek, neck, collar bone. It all makes my desire for him grow, even if the touches are innocent. Even if he seems to be holding back a little. But then his hands become braver and his lips break from mine, moving down to touch my stomach and working their way up towards my chest. I moan, knowing where he's heading, every part of me wanting to feel his hands there, on my skin.

As his kisses move lower and lower on my neck, my back arches up, pressing me closer to him. I feel his stiffness pressing against me and it surfaces some desires, some thoughts that I'm not sure what to do with. That make me blush. Even though I've thought of them before. Even though I've imagined this moment. I've never thought too much of anything like this in front of Jake himself. I want to see him as much as he wants to see me. And I want to touch him. I want him to feel just as good as he's making me feel. I press myself closer against him, rubbing against him. My hands beginning to caress their way down his skin towards his belt buckle.

JACOB

I kiss my way down her neck, down to her collarbone where I linger for a moment, trailing my tongue over it. I hear her moan of pleasure and it builds up my desire for her even more. I keep thinking it's not possible to want her more, but she keeps proving me wrong. I'm desperate for her, desperate to the point that I'm practically aching. But I want this to be good, for the both of us. I've waited all these years. What's a little longer? My palms move over her flat stomach, teasing her skin as my lips find the contours of her chest.

And then all that made sense before no longer does. All my thoughts blur over as my brain shuts down momentarily, starts back up again, and forgets how to function. Because Nessie's hand is grazing against my crotch. I groan loudly against her skin as I feel myself straining against my pants. I'm not sure if I ought to be embarrassed about that, I'm just so worked up right now. Come on, it's Nessie's hand on my crotch. Dirty thoughts, dirty thoughts. Her father's really gonna want my blood now.

NESSIE

My eyes slip closed under the gentle caresses of Jake's hands. And the hot open mouthed kisses he's leaving on my chest, seem to light my skin on fire. I'm craving him in a way that I never have before. I mean I've always wanted him around. I've always needed to know he was in my life. But I've never needed him as desperately as I feel that I need him now. And then his hands and kisses seem to freeze. To stop. And I don't know why. "Don't stop," I whisper to him, hoping that he isn't trying to respect some boundary or something. I don't want him to hold back with me.

But then I realize it's because of the affect that my touching him is having. He can't seem to focus. I like that I can affect him that much. I brush my hand against him again, getting the same delirium inducing moan out of his lips. And then my ability to tease him drifts away as I feel his mouth envelope around one of my nipples, causing me to moan and arch into him. My hands stilling as I become momentarily unable to focus on anything other than what I'm feeling.

JACOB

And then she does it again. My hips buck involuntarily. God help me. It takes me a moment to remember what I'm doing and what I want to do for her. I'm greedily lusting for her, I won't deny that. Not like I possibly can since someone down there can't seem to keep it to himself. But this is about her pleasure too, if not more so. And being with her, and learning about her body, learning what she wants, what she likes.

I continue my kisses until my lips find her erect nipple, latching onto it. And I forget again. Was this for her pleasure or mine? She moans. Both then, both it is. I swirl my tongue over it lightly, loving the reaction that I get out of her, the moan that escapes her lips as she arches her back, pressing herself deeper. I knead her other breast with my hand, slowly and tenderly at first. I don't know what's too much or too little, what feels good or what hurts. And I'm relying on her to tell me, and relying on myself to not get too carried away too quickly.

NESSIE

As my hand brushes against him again, his hips buck towards me, in a way that I can tell he wasn't planning. I sometimes have trouble believing that I have my Jacob. That I affect him the same way that he affects me. All I've ever wanted is for him to want me back. And he has. For years. And now there's real proof. A smile graces my lips at the fact that I have my Jacob. And that we're together, like this, now. I don't want to rush things, but I do want to take the rest of his clothes off. To touch him in places that I haven't before.

I raise my hands to his belt, beginning to unfasten it, unless he tells me not too, unless he thinks it's too fast. But really, he can't be comfortable caged in these pants. His touch is so gentle. Almost too gentle. I know he's holding back because he doesn't want to hurt me, but I want to feel more. But I don't know how to tell him he doesn't have to be so gentle with me. So instead, I raise my hand up, placing it over the one of his that's kneading my breast and apply more pressure, telling him silently.

He swirls his tongue over my nipple and I moan more loudly. "Oh God, Jake, that feels so good."

JACOB

Knowing that I can make Nessie, my Nessie, feel this way, that I can pleasure her in a way that no one else ever has, and hopefully never will, is somehow more fulfilling than experiencing the pleasure myself. She covers my hand with hers, silently demanding more, and I gladly oblige, moving from a gentle massage to a squeeze. She lets out a loud moan and I groan against her in response. I've never groaned against a woman's chest before. It's such a turn-on. And right now I'm such a horn-dog, it's not funny.

Her hand still lingering down there doesn't really help matters. Not that I'm complaining. In fact I'm grateful when I feel her fingers starting to work on my belt. My mouth still greedily attached to her nipple, I bring my hand down to help her, letting out a breath of hot air as her knuckles graze against me again. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me right now, Ness?" Okay, so she probably does.

NESSIE

He groans against my chest in response to my moan. And I can feel it vibrate through my chest. I can feel it vibrate through my body. It makes me press closer to him, pull him closer. And it makes me feel hollow in the places he hasn't filled yet, it makes me crave him more.

His large, warm hand moves down to help mine with his belt. It seems silly that I should need help, but I do. I'm so distracted by him right now, that I can't even undo his belt. It makes me want to giggle. The sound leaves my lips for just a moment, before it's a moan again. My hands losing their grip on his belt for a moment, my knuckles brushing against him again.

He blows hot air across my chest and I feel almost silly that I am so turned on by everything he does. There's no way that this could go wrong. No way that this could be bad. And then his belt is finally undone as he asks if I have any idea what I'm doing to him. "Some," I tease him, as I begin to push his pants down, using my hands until they don't reach and then my feet. And then one hand reaches up to touch his cheek. To communicate how I'm feeling through this touch. So he knows what he's doing to me.

JACOB

As my pants come off, I feel the anticipation rising. And with her hand on my cheek, she communicates with me in the way that only she can, so that I know exactly how she's feeling, exactly what effect I'm having on her. It's all I need to know, that she's enjoying this as much as I am, and knowing that she's turned on turns me on.

My mouth goes back up to find hers, like a man desperate for air, as my hand travels along her side and across to caress the smooth skin of stomach. Then slowly I let it venture south, relying on her responses to guide me through the do's and don'ts. And all this time, even with my lips pressed hard against hers, I'm smiling blissfully. Smiling like a fool.

NESSIE

Now that his pants are removed, I feel a little nervous about closing that last distance between us and actually reaching out and touching him. It's not that I'm afraid of it, or of him, or even of sex. It's just that I want to touch him how he wants to be touched. I don't know that I even know how to do that yet.

His hand trails over my stomach, leaving a fire behind in its wake, as I press up into his hand, needing to feel his touch. And then his hand dips lower. His touch is tentative. But I don't want it to be. I want to feel more of it. It takes him a few moments to do something truly mind blowing. But when he does, I couldn't stop my reaction if I wanted to. My hips buck up into his hand as I let out a small whimper.

It's then that I lose my timidness. I want him to feel the euphoria that he's making me feel. I reach out and wrap my hand around him, beginning to stroke him, unsure of the rhythm that he would like.

JACOB

I sense her hesitation again, hesitation that's been coming and going between us since we first decided to do this. But I know it's normal. And there's something about it that makes it even more special, the fact that this is a new experience for both of us. We're both nervous and uncertain, yet still passionate and ultimately in love.

And it's a wonderful feeling, being able to discover all these new things about her, learning her likes and dislikes. I undo the zipper of her slacks and snake my hand in. Even something as simple as this has me wondering. Do I take the pants of first or do I just touch her right now just the way I'm craving to? The guys would laugh, I know, and probably ask if I need a handbook. But at the end of the day, instinct takes over and I just go with what feels right, my fingers touching her, stroking her through her underwear.

And funny thing is, she seems to be liking everything I do. I'm not sure if that's an imprint thing or if she's just crazy turned on, but it pleases me to know that she's enjoying herself this much. But she catches me off guard when her cool fingers close around me, igniting a completely new sensation. I groan loudly into her mouth, wanting her so badly right now it almost hurts.

NESSIE

He groans loudly into my mouth and it feels like this one sound vibrates my whole body. And it tells me exactly what I needed to know. It's exactly what I need to hear. Proof that he's enjoying himself as much as I am. I've never felt more alive than I do right now, with him. As I continue to stroke him, he begins to thrust into my hand. And it takes me a few tries, but eventually I adjust to match his natural rhythm.

As he continues to touch me, I use my free hand to push off my pants. Hastily. Feverishly. It can't be fast enough. I can feel the desire pooling between my legs. Every touch making the tension build to an almost unbearable level. It's like torture. Only I'm craving it, enjoying every moment. The only problem is that every touch makes me more and more aware of the ache, the hollowness of my own body. My legs spread wider for him.

"Please," I find myself begging. Though I'm not sure what I'm begging him for. If it's to be touched skin to skin, to feel him inside of me, to just set all of the foreplay aside and just go for it. I just want to feel complete, full. I want to feel relief.

JACOB

Before I even know it, Nessie is pushing her pants off, hastily getting them out of the way. As if her hand around me isn't already more than I can take, her eagerness drives my desire for her even further. Without giving it a second thought, I reach down myself to remove her underwear, practically ripping it off in the process. First I snap her bra, now her panties. Lingerie shopping looms. But right now, at this stage, I don't care. I'm too far gone to care.

And she seems to be too. She begs me in a whimper, spreading her legs wide. The scent of her arousal reaches me, and it's the most intoxicating scent ever. I pull back slightly, for just a moment, to see her. I've never seen my Nessie this way before. And she just has to be the most beautiful, the most exquisite creature I've ever laid eyes on.

I lean back down to kiss her again, letting my greedy hand travel up her thighs, between her legs. And then ridiculously, I fumble. You get to know certain things from the guys when you share a mind. Things they don't necessarily want to share, but that's inevitable anyway. But most of the time, as much as they try to hide it, I try to ignore it too. I mean, Kim's so shy. With us, at least. And Emily's like a mother to us. And come on, I don't ever, ever want to know those things about my sister. So what I do know about the female anatomy is fairly limited.

But again, I do what I feel is natural. I do what yields a positive response from her. And it has her moaning, and I'm moaning, and it has us both tense with want and need, almost to the point of desperation. I trail my lips over her cheek to hover just over her ear. "What do you want, Nessie?" I whisper to her. I want her to tell me. I want to do this right, to treat her right, even now when I'm practically bursting at the seams with need. I want this to be what she wants it to be.

NESSIE

His lips brush over my cheek and then against my ear. My eyes slip closed as I feel his hot breath against my ear. And for a moment, like this, I just stop thinking. And then his words reach me. He wants to know what I want. And I'm not sure. I've never had anything from anyone before. I don't know if I want him to touch me, his fingers, his tongue, all of him. I don't think I'm ready for him to actually break that barrier yet. But the idea of him kissing me there sounds awkward. Though the girls did promise me that all of it was marvelous. Yes, embarrassingly enough I had to have this conversation with his sister and Emily. Because I wanted to know what to expect. And I wanted to know if there were any tips. Specifically for handling wolves.

"I want to feel you inside me," I tell him, but my tone sounds unsure. Is that even right for the next step. I think it's what I want. I want him to fill me. He looks positively giddy. And I realize that maybe he thinks the wrong thing. "Just your fingers for now," I add. I need time to try and adjust to the idea, even as much as I want to feel him.

JACOB

At first I'm all the way up on cloud nine, just at the idea of what she's just said. And then she explains her meaning and I realise that I'm getting ahead of myself. I need to mentally slow myself down for this, otherwise I'll never last. And I don't want that. I want to make this good for her, to give her what she desires. "Whatever you want, baby," I murmur huskily.

But I'm nervous too. My hand isn't as steady as I would like it to be. I'd hate to do something she doesn't like and put her off forever. I try to orient myself, tentatively running my fingers over her wetness, finding myself getting intoxicated just by the scent of her. I watch her, to see if I'm on the right track, and the glazed look in her eyes says it all. Slowly, I ease a finger into her. She stiffens a little. "Any time you want me to stop, just tell me," I whisper into her ear.

NESSIE

"Whatever you want baby," he promises me, whispering huskily in my ear. Even his tone of voice is turning me on. My eyes glaze over with lust as his lips brush over my ear and I feel his hot breath against me. And then it becomes almost impossible to focus as he runs his fingers over me. He slowly, tentatively, with an unsure hand slides one finger inside of me.

And this is the first thing to feel uncomfortable all night. It feels a little awkward. I've never had anything inside of me before. My body tenses a little as I try to get used to the new sensation, the feeling of having something forcing its way inside. He whispers that we can stop at any time. And I know he means it. But I don't want to stop. Even for all of my discomfort at the moment, I know that this is right. I know I want to share this with him. And I do feel like he's giving me what I crave, the need to feel completed.

"Don't stop," I panted to him. "Just give me a minute." He surely understood that all this was new. And so far not painful, just a little strange, uncomfortable. I gave myself a few minutes to adjust before lifting my hips off of the bed to push his finger deeper. Again strange discomfort, until I rocked my hips back down to the mattress. I moaned as he brushed against the right spot. I wanted him deeper, I wanted him there. I whimpered, I needed him to push deeper. I rocked my hips again. Again he collided with the right spot. "Right there," I encouraged him.

JACOB

When she shifts slightly, I first mistake it as her telling me she doesn't like it, that she's changed her mind. And more than anything, it's her comfort and pleasure that matters to me. But just as I'm about to withdraw, she tells me not to stop. She just needs a minute. And I realise that it's just that she needs to adjust. This is new for her, as it is for me. And I can only imagine that it must feel strange the first time, no matter how turned on you are. "Of course," I assure her, nuzzling her neck gently to let her know that I understand.

After a while, she starts to move, trying to get a feel of things I assume. And then finally she seems to discover a particularly sensitive spot, telling me that that's where she wants me. I'm thrilled that she's not shy about directing me to what feels good for her, because I like knowing that I'm pleasing her. I gladly oblige, slowly curling my finger slightly to stroke her where she seems to like it. It elicits a moan from her and that, combined with her scent, and the way she feels around my finger, has me panting slightly. Desperate to put my own needs on hold, I start kissing her neck again, sucking at her pulse point to communicate my love and passion and desire for her.

NESSIE

"Of course," he says, easily granting me the time that I need. I'm surprised by his self control. It must be hard for him to be so turned on and to just lay there and wait for me. He nuzzles my neck though and it's then that I know it's all okay. This man loves me. Not only would he wait like this, he would stop and wait until whenever I was ready. But it's not about being ready. I am most definitely ready. I know I love him. It's not about that. It just feels weird. Until it doesn't.

He listens to what I'm telling him. And that makes me love him more. Giving me everything I ask for, everything I need. His finger curls up and hits the right spot with unerring accuracy. And I feel like I'm climbing the walls as the tension begins to build even more. It leaves me panting. I know I should be returning the favor. I know that I was already stroking him. But I let go, gripping the sheets tightly as I feel my legs begin to shake. I don't want to hold on to him too tightly, or to scratch him. Unless he wants me to. Maybe he likes that. But how do you ask that question?

"Mmm, Jake, that feels so good," I pant out to him, feeling myself get closer and closer to the edge. His lips sucking on my pulse point doing nothing to help me hold on, to wait, to postpone the inevitable. And I'm not sure if this should happen yet. I mean I don't want to miss out on the actual sex. "Jake..." I struggle for the right words. "I'm close..." If he didn't want it to end like this, then he could take this moment to switch things.

JACOB

I can feel her start to shudder, taking my devotion to her to a whole new level. I never thought I could make her feel as good as she claims to be feeling. I know I wanted to, but I never quite knew what to expect. But being able to pleasure her this way gives me a sense of fulfillment, and if she wanted, I would carry on this way until she flies over the edge. And I want to see the look on her face as she does.

But her eyes, hooded with desire, tell me something different. And coupled with her words, I feel my own need for her build up again. I think this time, I'm right about what she wants. And God, if that's what she wants then I'm not about to say no. I want to share this with her, if she'll let me. I lean in closer. Still, I want to be certain. I want us to be completely certain about everything we do tonight. "You sure you're ready for this, Ness?"

NESSIE

He looks uncertain for a moment as he pulls his hand away from me. I immediately notice and feel the emptiness. I want more. I want him. All of him. And for a moment, I'm worried he might not. But then he voices his reason for uncertainty. He wants to know if I'm sure about all of this. If being with him is what I really want. The idea that I could ever say no just seems silly. Especially when I initiated this. Us coming to his room to at the very least fool around. But we both knew it would be more than that.

"I'm sure Jake," I assure him, "Of course I want you. Want to be with you." I lean up and kiss him again, this time tenderly reassuringly. "No regrets," I promised him as I pulled his body closer. Hoping he'd give me what I was longing for.

JACOB

She says that she's sure. She wants this. She hasn't changed her mind. And her kiss is enough to reassure me of that fact, and I'm thrilled that she's so sure of this, so determined. "No regrets," I echo, passionately returning the kiss. But even up until now, I'm still worried about how it's going to be for her. Will she feel pleasure at all her first time? Or just pain? Will it be worth it for her? I don't want to hurt her. Not my Nessie. But I now know how much she wants this, and I want her just as badly.

I spread her legs wider and position myself at her entrance, resisting the primal urge to just force my way in. No way. No way in hell. I take her hand and lace our fingers, my lips latching onto her neck. Then slowly, I begin to slide into her. I feel her body tense and I pause, giving her time. But God, it's so hard to hold back. I have never really known restraint until now. "If it hurts too bad, if you want to stop, just say the word, okay?" I whisper heavily into her ear. "Promise me, please." I need to know that she will. I can't stand the thought of putting her through pain for my own selfish desires.

NESSIE

I know that I just said that I wanted this. And it's not that I don't. I do. More than anything. I want him. I want all of him. I want him to fill me. I want to express our love in a physical way. But his hesitation makes some of my own concerns resurface. I know it'll hurt, but how bad? Will it make a liar out of me? Will I regret it? Will I feel like I never want to do this again? If I did would he accept that. But I want this. And I don't regret the decision.

He gently spreads my legs wider, positioning himself at my entrance. And I ache for him. I need to feel him inside of me. He laces our fingers together. And I move my other hand to wrap around him. To rest on his back. His lips attach themselves onto my neck. I moan again, my head tilting to the side to give him better access.

And then it happens. He moves just a little bit forward, beginning to enter me. And I feel so many things at once. I still want it, more than I can describe. But it does hurt. Not in an all consuming searing kind of pain, but painful enough. Before I can stop it, I gasp slightly and my body tenses. My hand grips him tighter. I squeeze his hand where it's laced with mine. But I ignore my pain and try to focus on Jake. Try to focus on the good things. Our fingers laced together. His lips on my neck. The fact that we love each other.

That's when he whispers to me that he needs me to tell him if it hurts too much. That we can stop whenever I want. I still want this. I still want him. It can't hurt forever. Or at least I hope it won't hurt the whole time. I have faith that it won't. That this will be good. The fact that he cares about me that much makes me love him more. But I know it would be cruel to stop now.

I turn my head to look at him. My eyes finding his. "Don't stop," I said to him, "Just go slow." His eyes were still pleading with me. I leaned up and kissed him. "I promise." If it got to be too much, I would let him know.

JACOB

Just go slow, she says. And that becomes my mantra for the next few minutes as I struggle to stay in control. Go slow, go slow, go slow. Take your time. You want to make love to her, not kill her. That thought, irrational as it is, freaks me out enough to give me the restraint I need. And her promise and the sincerity in that promise are enough of a reassurance for me now. I kiss her back, already breathless from want.

I squeeze her hand tighter, offering my support. And then I push deeper into her, past what must have been her barrier, wishing I could bear whatever pain she might get from this experience for her, because right now I do feel like a selfish asshole. Nothing about this feels at all bad for me. I sense her discomfort and force myself to pause again, panting heavily now. The truth is, it feels amazing. And the greedy bastard inside me is desperate for more.

NESSIE

He nods, agreeing to go slow. But I knew he would. If I knew my Jake at all, he was beating himself up over the pain I was feeling. As well as the fact that he's getting pleasure from it. When he pushes past my barrier. I hold on to him even more tightly as pain does, now, rip through me. It feels like I'm being forced into two. He stills again. He's panting. I can tell that it's hard for him to hold back, but I'm so thankful that he does. Just one of the million reasons why I love him.

After a few moments, the pain starts to feel not as sharp. And I know that Jake won't move again at all until I tell him to. He's probably even waiting for me to tell him to stop. But I can't. Not when I need him. And when I know he needs me. I look up at him. "It's okay," I assure him, "Don't stop." To emphasize my words, I raise my legs to wrap around him, urging him forward.

JACOB

I hear her gasp slightly, feel her hold on me tighten. And I feel so incredibly guilty. Right at this moment, I wish I had been the one designed to feel the pain. I hate that this is hurting her while I'm enjoying myself. I nuzzle her neck gently, wanting nothing more than to make this feel better for her. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

But when I pull back to meet her eyes again, I see no regret there. Pain, yes, but not the desire to stop. I realise then that we're going to be okay. She doesn't need my guilt right now, but my patience and understanding. And I can give her that, always.

Before I know what's happening, she seems to have adjusted to it more and without warning, puts her legs around me, pushing me deeper. I swear I could've lost it right there. I let out a loud, involuntary grunt at the sensation of having her wrapped so tightly around me. Now I know I've really got to slow down or I'll never be able to last.

NESSIE

"Don't be sorry," I tell him quietly when he apologizes. I can practically hear his thoughts. His guilty thoughts about causing me pain. probably when he feels none. And that's the thing. I don't begrudge him his enjoyment either. I'm glad it feels good for him. And I know that it will for me. "How does it feel?" I ask him, a little curious, even if it is a bit of an awkward question.

As I push him deeper still, he groans loudly. I put on a brave face against the pain and giggle a little. "Well that answers that question," I tease him.

I find his eyes, holding their gaze. "I love you, Jake," I tell him softly.

JACOB

She asks me how it feels. And I give an awkward laugh when she says that my groaning just answered her question. I hadn't meant for it to come out quite that undignified. But this is sex, not a tea party. It's all good.

My ability to form coherent thoughts is at this point somewhat diminished. But when she says she loves me, well, that's the one thing I could utter in all honesty even in my sleep. "I love you too," I return the sentiment with feeling, kissing her full on the lips. I reach down to gently caress her hip, rubbing it in what I hope is a soothing motion. "Is that okay? Feeling any better?" I ask, trying hard not to focus on the intensity of my pleasure right now. I guess that's just as awkward a question to ask, really.

NESSIE

He laughs a little awkwardly. I can tell how hard he's working for control right now. he's struggling to find words. Until I tell him I love him. Then the words come out of his mouth so easily, like they were made for me. Something that he will never stop uttering to me. And I'm glad for that.

His hand moves down to soothingly massage my hip. It feels good. And it is serving to relax me. My eyes slip closed a little. He asks me if it's any better. And with time it is starting to feel better. Like a dull throb. And now it's different. Not an all encompassing pain. I nod up at him. "Yeah," I tell him that it's getting better. And then about his hand on my hip, I say, "That feels good." Before I seek out his lips with mine again.

JACOB

When she says that it's feeling better, I have to hope that it really is. I know she wouldn't lie to me, but she may hide the truth from me to spare my feelings. She seems to be moving more now though, which tells me that it probably is less uncomfortable now. And the massaging seems to be helping.

Her lips meet mine again and I groan again into her kiss as the friction makes my hips buck a little. It's awkward. Not at all unpleasant, just awkward. Whoever said sex is sexy must've been kidding. I'm actually quite glad that we're still going slow, because I'm not sure I could handle holding back otherwise. "This feels amazing, Ness," I tell her truthfully, even though I regret that it may be less so for her. And then I admit sheepishly, "It's really - testing - my willpower, though."

NESSIE

As the pain passes, my hips begin to move in time with his. And I can actually feel some of the pleasure that he's talking about. Though I have to admit that mine is still tinged with pain. It's not all pleasant. But it's not all unpleasant either. he tells me that it feels amazing and I grin at him. Glad to know that it does. And that the next time we do this, it'll be that way for me too. Completely. Not in a tainted way like it is now.

He admits that it's testing his willpower. I nod. "I know," I tell him gently. "Thank you," I say to him, truly meaning it. I am grateful that he's not just ravaging me before I'm ready for it. As he slowly thrusts into me again, it's mostly pleasure I feel this time. I give a moan. "That felt good," I encourage him, letting him know that maybe I can handle a little more now, if he really wants to try and let a little bit loose.

JACOB

There's love written all over her face, in spite of the discomfort. And it's not just a brave face that she's putting on. I know that she really loves me, and that she means it when she says it. She whispers her thanks, but I just nuzzle her neck in response. I can't imagine it any other way. I would never intentionally hurt her if I could avoid it.

My hand moves upwards from her hip to caress the curve of her side, and ever further up to squeeze her breast as I push into her again. Hearing her moan suddenly only serves to spur me on. I'm glad that she says it felt good, because it's really working me up. My pace picks up a little, but then I realise that it's just making me pant even more because it's now even harder to stay in control. I really can't win. The hand that was roaming her body drops to the bed, fisting the sheets.

NESSIE

He nuzzles my neck and I know what it means. It's his way of telling me not to worry about any of it. That he's happy to take his time. Or to do this however I need it to be done. As I would expect with him, my comfort is his number one priority. His hand that was on my hip roams up my side and then begins to knead my breast. I moan and arch my back, pushing myself closer to him.

His pace picks up and with it some of the pain. But also more pleasure. Since I arched my back, he's now finding that perfect spot again and again that he had found with his finger. It causes me to thrust up to meet him more feverishly, as I want to feel that impact over and over. "Oh Jake," I moan, feeling barely coherent enough to do so as my hands travel over his back before gripping onto him tightly. I feel the coil come back, the pressure beginning to build again. And I feel that he's the only thing anchoring me right now.

JACOB

When she arches her back, she moves us into a new angle, one where I can move deeper inside her, one that tests my limits even further. By the end of tonight, they could make me a god. She actually seems to like this new position, participating more now. And now that she's taken over some of the control, I'm losing some of mine. As she moans my name, I moan hers right back, grunting like an animal. I thought sex was supposed to make you feel like a stud. But don't get me wrong, it's amazing. Maybe a little too amazing.

I feel like I'm about to explode as my hips, as if by a mind of their own, start to move even faster and harder before I rein myself in almost painfully out of sheer force. I stammer an apology before sheepishly confessing, in just one word, "Trying."

NESSIE

His hips begin to move faster. And I feel the tension building some more, coiling, getting closer...to what I wasn't sure, but closer. My breath came faster, in small pants. And I tried to keep up with him. But it still hurt a little, and his rhythm was so fast. But it felt good. When he slowed down, I whimpered. He looked worried as he apologized.

This slower pace now felt like he was teasing me. Like he was keeping what I wanted, what I needed right out of reach. I moaned in longing before saying, "I need..." But I wasn't sure what I needed. And saying for you to be rougher with me just didn't seem appropriate. I reached up and stroked his cheek. "Let go," I prodded him, wanting him to let it all go. I was pretty sure that I could handle it now.

JACOB

I find myself straining and panting heavily from the effort it takes to behave and not completely ravage her. I'm concentrating so hard that I barely notice that Nessie is whimpering, moaning, not out of pain but out of need. Only when I feel her hand on my cheek do I realise what she's trying to communicate to me. When she tells me to let go, I look into her eyes, searching them. But they're glazed over with lust and passion, I'm not entirely sure that she sees me. I just know that I can't wait for her to tell me that again.

I try to increase my speed gradually, to not overwhelm her. Or something. I don't know what it can do to a girl. I just don't want to take any chances. But once the rhythm has picked up completely again, I'm lost to the world, drowning in pleasure. I groan deeply as I thrust into her and feel her walls clench around me, my breaths coming harder and faster. "God, Nessie..." I murmur her name, unable to coherently utter much else at this point.

NESSIE

Jake is trying so hard to hold back that he doesn't even realize I'm trying to communicate with him right away. Once he does, he doesn't have to be told twice. He increases his pace almost immediately. But he does so slowly and gradually until our movements hit a fever pitch. And I'm thankful for his taking his time with me. Being careful with me. Putting everything he has into trying to make this as good for me as it is for him.

Our movements though feverish and pushed on by need, almost seem mechanical in some ways. He groans out my name. And with every thrust I feel the tension building, coiling more tightly in the pit of my stomach. Until I wonder if I'll ever feel relief from it. "Jake," I moan out raspily as I cling to him.

JACOB

When she moans my name back at me, her beautiful eyes half-closed as if she were in a dream, the mere sight of her is almost enough to make me lose it. I don't know what to say. I don't know the right words to tell her at a moment like this. I don't know what she might want to hear, or if she would want to hear anything at all. Or would it seem cheap if we do this silently? The actions do feel natural, instinctive Some of the imprints seem to love it when the guys say cheesy stuff. I will name no one. But while I am usually the king of cheesy nonsense, right now I'll be damned if I can think of a single good thing to say.

Not that we really need words, I guess. What we're doing does kind of say it all already. So instead of trying to find something to say, my hips do the talking for me by picking up speed again, thrusting myself deep into her core. I can't help myself. I feel like I'm being driven by sheer passion. Sheer animalistic passion, as it would appear.

NESSIE

For a moment it looks like he's going to say something. But then thinks better of it. Or words are failing him like they are me. I can barely think straight enough to put any good words together to say to him either. I don't blame him for having the same trouble. The only thing I can think that would be remotely relevant is how much I love him. But I think he knows that. And then as our eyes meet, I know he does.

And then he proves it with his body by increasing his pace. And I prove it with mine by meeting him stroke for stroke. My hands clutch at his back, pulling him closer. As I feel something changing. A beginning of a cascade, a falling down of sorts. Every part of me clamps down around him as I cry out, the waves of pleasure moving over me with my release. And then I feel his body shudder over mine.

JACOB

The look that she gives me is enough. It says I don't need to say anything. It says everything I feel, she already knows. It says everything I feel, she feels too. I don't need much more than that. I couldn't be more blessed. Our feelings, unable to be expressed in words, get translated into raw passion, amplified by need, by desire.

I barely even know what's happening when I feel her tighten around me, except that she's looking the most beautiful I've ever seen her - and that's saying something, because she's always beautiful to me. The sight, coupled with the sensation, sends me flying over the edge and spiralling downwards, my body convulsing over hers in the most amazing explosion of pleasure I've ever experienced. When the moment ends, I pull out of her and collapse on to the bed beside her. We're both silent for a while, trying to catch our breaths. When I finally speak again, I don't sound very articulate. "Wow."

NESSIE

"Wow." I giggle. My Jake. The one who usually has a million words to say. The one who can talk forever about how perfect and beautiful and loved I am, can only say wow. And even funnier. It's kind of the only thing I can think of too. "Yeah, wow." I echo. But right now, it's almost more awkward than anything. I mean, we kinda knew instinctively what to do when we were having sex. But now. Now what? Do I move into his arms? Does he want his space? Should I leave? He hasn't asked me to stay. But then again neither of us knew that we were going to end up here tonight. But I suddenly feel unsure of how to proceed with him. And I've never been unsure of anything in my life.

I begin searching in the blankets for my underwear, saying what seems obvious. My parents don't really expect me. But like I said, he hasn't asked me to stay. "It's late," I say to him softly, "I should probably head home soon." But what I really want is to fall asleep against his chest, here, with him.

JACOB

She says the same thing, making me grin at the knowledge that she feels the same way. It would kind of suck if I thought that was mind-blowing and she didn't. I mean, that's not how I would've wanted her first time to be. But then I hear the rustling around and look over at her to find her starting to sit up, looking for something. To my surprise, she says she should be heading home. I don't know why I'm surprised, really. But then, we've never spent a night together quite like this before. It takes me a moment to gather thoughts together again.

"Wait, Ness," I say to her, reaching for her hand, stilling her. I smile to myself as my finger grazes the cool surface of her ring. I don't want tonight to end like this. "Don't go, please. Stay with me tonight."

NESSIE

His hand reaches out to still mine and he asks me to wait. I pause, smiling when I see his smile at the feel of my ring under his fingers. He asks me to stay and I feel relaxed again. My body melts back into the bed. I feel I can be myself again. I move over to him, wrapping my arms around him, resting my head on his chest. "Are you sure about that?" I tease him, flashing him the ring. It shimmers, even in the moonlight. "I mean soon you'll be stuck with me every night for the rest of eternity." I giggle a little at the look on his face. It's like he doesn't know if he should assure me that of course he wants me, or if he should stop the flood of dirty images that thought gives him.

JACOB

I wrap my arms around her too, glad that she's staying. It makes everything about tonight perfect. When I decided I was going to propose, I hadn't expected the night to turn out like this. But I'm glad it did, and I'm glad we waited, because it just made the experience that much sweeter. She brings her hand up and waves it in front of me, reminding me that once we're married, we're going to be together every night. Of course I'm sure. But without even realising it, I start imagining more nights like this. For the rest of eternity. If you're going to live forever, that wouldn't be a bad way to spend it.

"You are a handful, but I'm pretty sure I can handle it," I tease her with a smirk, rubbing her back with my hand. And then I suddenly realise that we're both naked. Okay, so that's kind of dumb, of course I knew that. But I wasn't consciously aware of it until now. We've spent nights close to each other, cuddled up together, but having her this close to me, with not a single barrier between us, is completely new. It's like we were made to fit into each other's arms. And I like it.


	12. The Sounds of Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, just a warning that this chapter, and a lot of the ones to follow will center around a character's death.

JACOB

I suppose I could call it the single most extraordinary night of my life, at least thus far. It felt like the two of us were expressing our love for each other in a way that went beyond words. Sure, there were some slightly awkward moments at first, as you would expect for a first time, but we'd laughed it off and somehow it just made the experience more real. I'd made her promise to tell me if she wanted to stop, if I was hurting her, but it never came to that. I'd tried to keep it slow at first, but I doubt either of us could've held back the unbridled passion. Tonight it's like we became a single unit, living on the same breath. We'd done more than have sex – we'd made love for the first time, and it couldn't have been more perfect.

We talked for a while afterwards, but eventually we both started drifting off to sleep, with her body pressed close to mine. Somewhere in my mind, I'm still not fully asleep, still aware of her cool skin against mine and how right it feels, when I hear my cell phone go off. It takes me a while to actually register the fact, and at first I really couldn't be bothered so I just let it keep ringing. And then I feel Nessie stir, her head moving slightly against my chest.

With a groan, I reach my arm out to grab the phone from the bedside table, fumbling with it for a while before actually answering the call. "Hello?" There's a silence on the other end, which makes me a little frustrated, thinking that it might be prank caller. Just as I'm about to say something again, I hear a familiar voice. "Jacob?"

I recognise the voice. "Charlie?" I ask, surprised. Charlie Swan? At this hour? You've got to be kidding me. I don't normally get calls from him – he usually goes straight to Dad, so this is definitely unexpected. For a second, I find the moment a little, well, odd. I mean, I did after all just make love to his granddaughter. But then I note the seriousness in his tone and my mind immediately wakes up. "What's up?"

"Jacob, I'm afraid I've… got some bad news," he says, sounding distraught and yet awkward at the same time. Bad news… My brow furrows as I remove my arm from around Nessie and sit bolt upright, turning the bedside lamp on. Before I can even ask him what is, he carries on, "It's Billy." Without realising it, my fist clenches slightly at my side. "Billy?" I ask slowly, dreading the answer. "What about Billy?"

Silence.

My heart constricts in my chest. "Charlie, are you there? What's going on?"

After that, my mind doesn't really register much of what he's saying except that my father's dead, and even then I don't believe him. It just feels as if the ground has been pulled out from beneath me – the ground, along with my entire world. This has to be some kind of sick, twisted joke. It has to be, what else could explain it? Certainly not the fact that my father is actually dead, and certainly not like this. Right now I'm struggling to even remember the last thing I said to him.

"I'll be… right over," I say blankly into the phone before setting it down in case I crush it in my hand.

Surely fate wouldn't deal you the same cards twice, right?

NESSIE

I heard the phone ringing and I wanted to ignore it. I wanted it to just stop ringing. I didn't want anything to burst into my gloriously happy bubble with Jake. Tonight we had made love for the first time. And I'll be the first to admit that it wasn't all romantic. We had awkward moments, and there was some pain, but not enough to make me want to stop. But in the end, it had been the most amazing thing I'd ever done. Making tonight the most perfect night of my life. And I didn't even want the morning to come and ruin that. I snuggled closer to him as it continued to ring, but now it was starting to make me stir, to wake me up. And that's when Jake finally answered. He didn't want for me to be disturbed. Which was very sweet of him.

But as I listened to his end of the call, as he bolted upright, the force with which he slammed the phone down, I knew that this wasn't good news. Billy was hurt. He was in the hospital. It had to be. We had to go. But as he seemed to sit still, I wondered if that was it. If Billy was in the hospital and I knew my Jake at all, which I thought I did, then he'd be a flurry of motion right now. I slowly sat up, trying to fully wake up, trying to focus. I placed my hand on his arm gently, trying to offer him comfort for whatever was going on. "Jake," I said to him quietly, unsure if I wanted to hear the answer. "What is it? What happened?"

I was nervous to know. I was worried about him. But I know no matter what happened, we can survive it, can face it together. And he knows that too. If he didn't then none of last night would have happened.

JACOB

For the first time ever, it's almost as if I can't even feel Nessie's touch. All I can feel is… numb, nothing. But I cringe when she worriedly asks me what happened, because it's then that it hits me like a wave, like the air has been sucked out of my lungs. If I answer her, it'll have to be true. My hand moves up unsteadily to touch hers, the one resting against my arm. I try to draw some comfort from it, but this feeling of emptiness is just too strong, too profound.

"My… dad…" I say slowly. I don't want to say it, I don't want to believe it. I swallow hard and stare ahead unblinkingly. "There was a… a car crash." A car crash. Just like Mom. I shake my head, to myself, to Nessie, to Charlie, to whoever or whatever it was that had let this happen. There must be some sort of mistake. "My dad… he's… dead."

I choke out the last word but even now, I still can't bring myself to move. I'm frozen in place, refusing to believe that the world as I know it has been ripped away, destroyed. Didn't I just see my father earlier in the day? And at some point, wasn't he patting me on the back, thrilled that I was going to propose to Nessie? Of course I knew he was aging, that he wasn't going to live forever, but he was strong and had a few years in him left. Never did I expect it to end like this. "No…" I whisper, more to myself than to her. "There must be some sort of… it can't… it just can't be true."

NESSIE

I watch Jacob worriedly. It's almost like he doesn't register my touch, my comfort. I'm worried about whatever great shock has just been dealt to him. I almost worry that he won't recover. That maybe he's gone catatonic on me. I'm about to question him again, to make sure he's still mentally with me, here. But then he starts to speak. He says that it's his dad. And even though I already knew that, I still feel the panic rising in my chest, as I give his arm a squeeze and nod, being both sympathetic and encouraging, Billy had in many ways been like a second father to me, especially over the past few years as Jake and I grew closer and I knew that I would spend forever with this man, that one day we would be married. And Billy would be family. But neither of us had seen a reason to wait to treat each other like father and daughter, like family. I wouldn't say that I loved him like Jake did, or the same as I loved my own dad, but it was close. And I didn't want to know what horrible thing had happened to Billy any more than it appeared that he wanted to tell me. But I waited patiently and listened.

When he said that Billy was dead. My breath caught in my throat. I felt tears come to my eyes. He was gone? Really gone? He wouldn't celebrate our union. He wouldn't be at the wedding. He would never know his grandkids, because I was sure that if Jake and I didn't give him any then Paul and Rachel would. I felt my earlier happiness leave me. And I felt some of my future happiness slip away too, at the thought that Billy wouldn't be able to be at those events and many others. That we had indeed lost him for good.

I wanted to break, to cry, to sob, to say that it wasn't fair, to curse whatever higher power existed. But one look at Jake's face and I knew I couldn't do any of that. I couldn't fall apart because Jake had already fallen apart. I needed to be strong for him, like he had been strong for me many times before. I needed to be his support, his rock. I couldn't cave under pressure, at the first sign of trouble, when I knew he needed me most. I took a deep breath and pushed my own desperate sadness to the back, for Jake. "I'm so sorry," I said to him, resting my head on his shoulder. I knew that those words were small. That they didn't mean much to him now probably, but they were true. I was sorry. And I would do anything to change what had happened. To make it different.

I kissed his shoulder lightly, feeling at a loss as to what to do. Everything that I had to offer seemed very insignificant at the moment. I wouldn't know what I would do if my dad died. I had no idea what I would want. I didn't know if anything other than time would comfort me. And I didn't know if that would be the case or not for Jake. But I knew that I'd want to know that people were there for me, and most importantly that Jake was. I'd want him with me. So I hoped that that might be the same for him. "I'm here for you," I said softly, my chin still resting on his shoulder. "Whatever you need." It always sounded trite in movies, but now I realized why people said it, it was the only thing to say. But it didn't sound any less trite now.

His hand almost lifelessly, as if he were in a fog, moved up to cover mine and I put my other hand over his, giving him a small squeeze, trying to offer as much comfort and support as I knew how. I was after all still a child. What did I really know about helping Jake through a loss this profound? He tried to deny it. And I silently hoped against hope also that Charlie had gotten it wrong. That he hadn't identified his own best friend correctly. That Jake's phone would ring any minute and it would be Billy laughing and explaining the horrible mix up. But I had the clarity enough to realize that that wasn't reality. It was simply a hope. One that wouldn't be realized. But I didn't know how to dash Jake's desperate hopes, how to say what I knew without sounding mean or callous. Billy was dead. And we couldn't change that.

The only thing that came to my mind to say next was the old stand by, another trite sentiment: Everything will be okay. But it seemed wildly inappropriate. Sure, over time, everything probably would be okay. But if I were in Jake's shoes, that would be the last thing I would want to hear, even if it came from him. Not yet anyway.

So instead of speaking right away, I squeezed his hand again. "Didn't you tell Charlie you'd meet him somewhere?" I say, breaking the heavy silence hanging between us and trying to bring Jake back to the here and now. I never referred to Charlie as grandpa, as everyone I had ever heard talk about him, referred to him as Charlie. I pause momentarily. "Maybe we should get ready." There was no way I was letting Jake do this alone. Together, we could weather anything.

JACOB

She says she's sorry. Like she believes it. But I know I can't. I won't believe it until I see him. With every passing moment, the reality of it all is threatening to sink deeper and deeper, but I refuse to go down. I need to cling to this last piece of hope that I have. "I'm here for you," she whispers to me, her head resting on my shoulder. At the back of my mind, I know she's trying to offer me comfort, but I can't seem to see it, can't seem to reach out and hold onto it now when I need it so desperately.

Instead all I can think about is my father and the fact that I'll never see him alive again, never hear his reminiscing his youth with my mom, never hear his roaring laughter or his rough voice telling me to quit fussing over his squeaky wheelchair. If I accept this, then I'll have to accept losing all that. And I don't know if I can. Not when I can't even remember what was the last thing I said to him, or the last thing he said to me.

"Didn't you tell Charlie you'd meet him somewhere?" she asks, squeezing my hand gently before suggesting we should get ready. I remain silent for a long while before I realise what she's saying. My mind snaps back to the present, but my heart is still elsewhere. I turn my face slightly, pressing my forehead to hers. For a moment, as I squeeze her hand back, I feel the emotions swell up in my chest, threatening to spill over.

But I can't. I don't have time to grieve. Not now. I have to pull myself together to go identify his… to go identify him. To make whatever arrangements and sort out whatever needs to be sorted out. And then I'll have to call my sisters. God, how am I going to tell them that our father is dead? They went through it once with Mom, and they were older than I was then. This second blow will shatter them for sure. I can't break down, not when I need to be strong for them.

With a nod, I pull myself away from Nessie, getting up and starting to get dressed. I don't want to go through this alone, I feel like I need her there with me or I will surely crumble, but I can see the look of sadness in her eyes as well. "Maybe I should... send you home first," I say quietly after pulling my shirt on, my voice sounding hoarse, like it's not quite my own. As much as I need her right now, she doesn't need to see this. She deserves to keep her last memories of Billy the way they are, with him alive.

NESSIE

He seems miles away as he stares at the wall across from his bed. I stay quiet, letting him have all the time he needs to react, to try and process, to try and deal. But he's still got me concerned, like he's not really here. It seems like he's half here and half somewhere else. And I'm not sure where that place is. Maybe the past. Maybe part of him is back somewhere in a good memory with his dad. And I would never steal that from him. I would never want to take that peace away from him.

He turns and rests his forehead against mine, and I look into his eyes for a moment before letting mine fall closed, gathering strength from him. Even now when he's probably afraid he has nothing to offer, I can find strength in him to be strong for him. When I open my eyes again to look into his, I see the pain and anguish, all the emotion playing across his face. And for a moment I think he might break down. I'm afraid about how I might break down too if he does. But my arms are ready and willing to hold him. Then he turns away from me. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was embarrassed. Like he didn't want me to see him fall apart. I want to tell him that it's okay to be sad, it's okay to cry. But now he's off the bed and in motion and just to keep up I have to double time my way up and pull my clothes on.

I'm about to pull my shirt over my head when he suggests that he take me home. And I come to a stand still. Is he serious? I know he needs me, so why would he want to send me away. Maybe because he's thinking about me, maybe he's seen the pain on my face and doesn't want to put me through any more. But right now what I need doesn't matter. I can handle this. Because I know he can't do this alone. He can't really want me to go. Can he? "What?" I blurt out before I even have time to think. "No!" I shake my head fervently.

I pull my shirt roughly over my head as I look over to him. And one look at his face tells me what I have to do. I have to insist. I have to go with him. It's what he needs. I can see his desire for me to be there written all over his face, even if he feels like me going with him is too much to ask me for.

"Jake," I say softly as I cross the floor until I'm standing in front of him. I take one of his hands between both of mine, my palm pressed against his. My eyes lock on his and I shake my head again, just a little. "I'm not going to leave you now. When you need me most." I raised his hands to my lips and kissed his fingers lightly. I thought after last night he would know that for sure. That he would know that I wasn't running scared anymore. I wasn't avoiding the tough stuff. "I want to be there for you," I reiterate to him, because it just doesn't seem to be sinking in. "We're going to do this together."

JACOB

Every thought in my mind is tangled up with memories and images, images of the crash that I never saw. I don't even know any of the details. How it happened, or where it happened. Charlie might've mentioned it on the phone, but I probably just missed it. Because it doesn't matter, none of that matters. All I know is that my father's dead – the one person whom I've pretty much never been without all my life is dead and gone. The pain that comes with this realisation is profound, like a spear right through the chest. I don't want to see his body. I don't want to make it final. But I don't have a choice.

Nessie seems appalled by my suggestion to send her home. I look up at her to find not only the love and warmth and sympathy shining in her eyes, but also a strong, silent determination, one that I've never seen there before. At least, not quite like this. I watch her as she comes to stand before me, as she takes my hand in hers. The movement seems to happen so fast and at the same time so slow to me, as if my mind has forgotten how to process the world around it.

"I'm not going to leave you now. When you need me most," she says. I feel her lips graze gently across my hand and for just a moment, all of last night plays itself before my mind. But the happiness, the bliss, seems so far away now, as if it had all taken place in a separate lifetime. In a separate lifetime, in a perfect world, where my father was still alive… She insists on staying with me, on doing this together, and I know that she's right. I do need her, now more than ever.

I close my eyes, placing my other hand over both of hers and bringing them up to my lips the same way she just did moments ago. There's a long silence, because I don't trust myself to speak without shattering to pieces. Only when I'm sure I can hold myself together do I open my eyes again. "Thank you…" I whisper hoarsely. I swallow hard, wanting to say more, but it's really all I can say right now, all I can manage to tell her how truly grateful I am to have here with me now even though I'm in no frame of mind to give anything in return. With a sigh, I pat her hands lightly before releasing them both and reaching over to grab my wallet and keys from the desk.

But as soon as I've let go of her, the hollowness swoops back in to engulf me in its dark, merciless depths. "You ready? Let's go," I say quietly. "Charlie's waiting for us at the hospital." The hospital. Where I'm going to have to claim what's left of my dad. How much more twisted can all this get, when only just a few hours ago, I was the happiest man in the world?

NESSIE

I watch him as he seems to study me. Like he's trying to decide if I'm serious. Do I really mean the words, or am I just going through the motions? And then he comes to the undeniable conclusion that I am serious, I do mean it. I care about him, love him, more than anything. And I would endure any amount of hardships to be with him, to prove it to him, to give him what he needs. And though I have no idea what to do, or how to act in this situation, I know I have to go with him. I have to hold his hand. I have to be there. And maybe I'll be lucky and find the right words to say somehow, along the way. He raises my hands to his lips and for a moment it seems like he is truly in the here and now, standing before me, awake to the world around him.

His eyes slip closed and I see the indescribable pain pass over his features again, and it breaks my heart. I want to find a way to erase that pain. I wish I could feel it for him. That I could just take it away from him and impose it upon myself. I want so much to hear his laugh, to see his smile. It's barely been an hour since we received this news and already our last happy moment seems like ages ago. His smile seems like a distant memory, probably because I know that I won't see it for a while. "Thank you..." he says brokenly. "Anytime," I respond quietly, meaning the sentiment with everything I possess as I take a moment to lean into him and wrap my arms around him.

And then he unwraps my arms from him and pats my hands and lets them go. I hate feeling the distance between us. I hate how my pain seems stronger without his touch. And I know as I see the distant far away look on his face again that he is feeling his pain more profoundly now too. And again I pray for the ability to say and do the right thing for him. Again I wish I could do something to magically take it away.

I reach down and take his hand in mine as we walk out to his truck. "Do you want me to drive?" I ask him, gently, not knowing if he was in any state to do so. He nodded slowly, that blank look, that distant far away look, still on his face. I gently took the keys from him and guided him to the passenger side, making sure he was in before getting in on the driver's side and starting up the truck. The radio turned on automatically, seeming like a loud, oppressive force in the midst of all of our emotion. I reached out and turned it off almost instantly. I didn't think that the radio held anything that would secretly make either of us feel any better about what had happened or what was coming.

The ride to the hospital was done in silence, me casting sideways looks at Jake to make sure he was still alive, still breathing, still as okay as he could be, as I struggled to maneuver the gigantic car. And I hoped every second that it wasn't true. That there was some kind of mistake. That it wasn't Billy. I tried to imagine that being the case. Tried to imagine hearing those words and seeing the joy and relief rush over both of us. I tried so hard to see it. But I knew deep down that it wasn't true, so it was making it hard to imagine.

When we arrived at the hospital, I parked the truck out of the way, where I didn't run the risk of hitting any other cars. And if Jake were himself. I knew he would have laughed and scoffed at me before kissing me on the forehead, getting out, pushing me to the passenger side as he took over the driver side and parked us closer. But I knew I would get no such reaction out of him now. He barely blinked as he seemed to realize we were somewhere else when the car came to a halt.

I got out of the truck and waited for him. The mantra Please let it be a mistake repeating over and over in my head. Over and over. Over and over. I put my hand in his before abandoning that route for wrapping my arm around his waist. The mantra repeating over and over until I saw an all too familiar car in the parking lot. A silver Volvo. Mom and Dad. They were here. My heart sank and a new mantra took over. Please let me do what's right for Jake. And then I saw them coming out to meet us, dad must have heard at the very least my thoughts.

I stepped out of the way as mom flung her arms around Jacob. "I'm so sorry. Charlie called and told me. I didn't want you to be alone." That rubbed me the wrong way, the implication that I would leave Jacob alone. But then again Mom didn't know if I was with him, if he'd insist on leaving me behind like he had tried. And she was Jake's best friend. If I couldn't hold his hand through this I would want it to be her.

At the finality of it all, their presence, my shattered hope, I felt the first tears and dad pulled me into his arms, holding me so tight that for a moment I thought he might break my half human bones. But as soon as he heard that, he relinquished his hold on me and wiped the few tears that had gotten away from my face. "Thank you," I whispered to him, with a nod towards mom to show that I meant it for her too. She smiled and hugged me. "Renesmee?" she questioned, looking at the ring, but now didn't seem like the time. "Later," I said to her quietly. Later I could share the short lived happiest moment of my life with her. That is if it wasn't forever entwined with the worst moment of my life, in my head.

I quickly wiped away all stray tears, for the first time wishing that that was a vampiric trait that I had, the inability to create tears. I needed to keep it together for Jake. And I didn't need him to push me away because he thought that it was too painful. I reached out and took his hand in mine again, giving it a small squeeze to get his attention. "Ready?" I asked him, nodding towards the hospital doors, hoping that I was ready for this too.

JACOB

As we approach the truck, Nessie volunteers to drive. It isn't often that I let her take over, simply because it just isn't the norm for us, but right now I just hand her the keys. I don't know if I can hold myself steady enough to drive anyway. And wouldn't that be a cruel twist, if I were to get us into a car accident on our way there? I hardly even notice when she turns off the radio and begins to drive. But as we move out of the reservation, I begin to regret the choice. I'm not used to being in the passenger seat. It's given my hands nothing to do, my mind nothing to occupy itself with. All I can see is Dad. It turns out to be one of the longest drives I've ever had to sit through in my life.

I don't know how long it took for us to get there exactly, or even what time of night or morning it is now when it's still so dark, but eventually we do. At first I just don't want to get out, don't want to have to go in. Why can't I? Why can't I just hide from all of this, pretend it's not happening so that I'll never have to face it? But when I hear Nessie close the door on the driver's side, reality takes over and there's simply no running away from anything. Almost as soon as I get out on my side, she comes close and slips an arm around my waist. The feeling, though familiar and still somewhat comforting, has lost all its pleasantness.

My eyes are focused on the entrance doors as we walks across the parking lot when two figures emerge from behind them. I know their gaits well, know exactly who they are even from a distance, and just by being here, they've stolen from under me just a little more of my hope. Hope that this could still be a mistake. Hope that even Charlie could get it wrong. Even hope that maybe Dad could be playing on me the stupidest prank of his life. And I would forgive him for it too, a thousand times over if it meant he was alive. But Bella and Edward are here, and that makes this all the more real.

I barely move when Bella hurries over and throws her arms around me. Her presence should be reassuring – I've always loved being around her, even after getting over the initial shock of her turning into a vampire. She's always been a close friend, my best friend even, but now even knowing that my best friend is here gives me little comfort. Yeah, it's great, she's here, they're all here. But there's one person who's not. "Thanks" is all I manage to mumble as she pulls away again, her eyes lingering on me worriedly.

I stand aside as Bella moves over to Nessie, and for a moment, I even see the look of sympathy in Cullen's eyes. I don't know if that makes it worse or not, to be getting sympathy from him of all people, but all the same I nod in acknowledgement. When I feel a light pressure on my hand, I realise that I had zoned out for a moment and that Nessie's back beside me. I look down at her and note the redness of her eyes, that she's been crying. I almost tell her to stay outside with her parents, to spare her the pain of having to see what we're about to see, but I know I can't fight that determined look. Especially when I don't even have the strength to try. She asks if I'm ready and I nod silently before starting to walk.

Every step from then onwards feels heavy, like my feet have somehow turned to lead. We meet Charlie at the reception, and the whole time I'm just shaking my head at him. "This is a mistake, right?" I ask him, still clinging to this last bit of disbelief. My heart sinks when he bows his head and reaches out to pat my back, saying that he's sorry. Everyone's saying that they're sorry. I want to scream, what's the point in sorry if he's dead? But I can hardly find my voice.

"You don't have to… go see, Jacob," Charlie tells me, and I realise that as the sheriff and a close family friend, his identification of the body would have sufficed. But there's something else about his words that causes my throat to tighten, my airways to constrict. If he's telling me not to have a look, it must mean it's bad. Just how bad, I can't quite tell from the look in his eyes. But that's all the more reason for me to go ahead with it. How can I abandon my father, even in death, just because it won't be a pretty sight? "No," I say firmly. "I have to."

The horrible stench of chemicals and death is permeating the air, choking my lungs as he leads us down the corridors to a room before standing aside by the door. My grip tightens around Nessie's hand right then. I need her, I need to know that she's still here even though the rest of the world is about to disappear. Then, taking a deep breath, I take the first step inside. He's covered in a plain white sheet, and even now, there could still be just the slightest, the very slightest possibility that it's not really him. And if it's not, then I have to know.

When I'm finally standing beside him, I turn back to Nessie and look into her eyes, giving her one last chance to back out of this, trying to let her know that I would understand. But she's still adamant, so I nod quietly and try to draw some strength from her, strength that I know I'm losing with each passing moment, until I know that I can delay no longer. Finally, with a trembling hand, I slowly lift the sheet off his face.

And the sight of it brings me to my knees.

I blink once. And then again. Any and all hope that I may still have been harbouring up till this point flies straight out the window. It's him. It's him, and yet it's not. I was prepared to see a dead person, and at the very far corners of my mind I may even have been prepared to see my dead father… but nothing, absolutely nothing could've prepared me for this. Even though some effort was clearly taken to clean him up, the extent of the damage is obvious just by the look of his jaw, so badly dislocated from the impact of the crash. This is not the face of a peaceful death. This is cruel and ugly and gruesome, and not the way anyone would ever want to remember their father. But it is this face that will never leave my mind – it will always be there to haunt me, to mar forever all the good memories I've ever had of him.

NESSIE

Charlie says that Jake doesn't need to see the body. And it's then that I know that the body will be a gruesome sight and I try to prepare myself for that. But I've never seen a dead body before. Never once killed a human and mangled their body, never once seen a vampire who had, never once seen a vampire all torn up and dismembered by the wolves. Every gruesome looking body I had seen, I had seen because of Hollywood magic. I had a feeling that the real thing would be nothing like that. For a moment I wonder if Jake should see this. Should he see his dad so disfigured? Would it steal all good memories of his dad? Would that forever be how he remembers his dad looking? I don't want that for him. I'm about to tell him how I feel, ask him to reconsider, but he tells Charlie that he has to. And he says it with more conviction than I've heard him say anything since he got the news. It's then that I realize that he needs this. He needs to see with his own two eyes. If he doesn't then he'll never believe. He'll always doubt. And no one could call him crazy for it, given the supernatural world that we live in. Charlie gives me a questioning look and I simply nod to him, determined to do everything I can for Jacob.

Charlie gives an understanding nod, attributing this to one of the many unexplainable things that he insists he doesn't want an explanation to, ever since Jake wolfed out in front of him, and he realized our world was different. Then he walked down the hallway, leading us to where Billy's body was. I give Jake's hand a squeeze and rub my other hand up and down his arm, hoping some of this is getting through to him, hoping in this horrible awful moment that he doesn't feel alone. We stop in front of the door and Jake turns to me and squeezes my hand. I squeeze his hand back and look into his eyes, a look that says I'm here for him, a look that tells him that he can do this, he is strong enough. And then we move into the room to see a white sheet covering the body.

He disentangles his arm from me before giving me one last look, one more time to back out. But I won't falter. Not now. I give him my most determined look and he simply nods before reaching up and removing the sheet from Billy. From what used to be Billy. This man though, is broken, almost beyond repair. His jaw is dislocated, it makes his face no longer look the same. And for a moment the horrible sight of the face that used to be Billy's is all I can see. I take in a sharp breath, trying to keep my emotions at bay, as I convince myself that Billy is no longer there. In that body. I refuse to remember him like this, not when I have so many memories of a perfect smile on his beautiful face. Not when I remember so many jokes that he told, so many times we shared. A face that was so expressive, that fit together like a face was supposed to.

I remembered one of the last conversations that we had had. Jake had been out patrolling it had just been the two of us. I don't remember what started the conversation, but this is where it ended up.

"Don't forget to take care of Jake," he said, winking at me. I had noticed lately that Jake did an awful lot for me and never let me return the favor. When I was younger I hadn't minded, I had almost wanted it to be all about me, but now I wanted a more equal relationship. I wanted to do more for him. I went to say something and Billy shook his head. "He likes being in charge. And he doesn't like looking like he can't handle it. And he likes moving the sun and the moon for you. It's the way he's built. But don't forget that there may be times when he needs you."

The conversation at the time had taken me by surprise, as if to explain Billy said. "We never stop looking out for our children. You'll probably be four hundred and your mom and dad will be trying to look out for you too."

I laughed softly at the image of my over protective dad still growling at Jacob years from now for having impure thoughts. My dad pretending that all the children I had were brought about by immaculate conceptions. To him, Mary wouldn't be the only one allowed to use the excuse. I nodded to him and looked him dead in the eyes and said with as much feeling as I could muster. "I promise. I never take Jake for granted. And I would love to be there for him. I would love just about any future that puts us together."

He smiled at me. "You'll have that," he seemed so sure. He seemed more sure than I felt. "One day he'll ask you to marry him and we'll all have a big party."

"The pack and the vampires...and some humans too," I winked at him. There was not a single person among those groups that I could imagine not having there.

"What about our dance," he teased me, but I could tell by the look in his eyes that he missed dancing. And that he regretted not being able to share that with me.

I reached out and placed my hand over his. "Oh, we will dance, Billy." He gave me a skeptical look, gesturing to his wheelchair. I shrugged, maybe we wouldn't dance conventionally, but we would dance. "We'll work it out." I smiled at him as he laughed out loud as I got up, turned the stereo on and proceeded to dance with him, as he twirled his chair under my arm. And he seemed very pleased.

"I guess we'll dance," he said with a smile, his eyes twinkling.

That was how I would remember Billy. Dancing with me, smiling. I thought about the fact that we wouldn't dance at our wedding and I felt the tears well again. I felt a hand on my back, but knew from its lack of heat that it was not Jake's. I finally tore my eyes away from Billy to find Jake on the ground. I would keep that promise, not because it's one of the last ones that I made to Billy, but because I always want to be with Jake, and there for Jake, good or bad.

I immediately join him on the floor, sitting next to him as I wrap my small arms around his huge frame. I pull his body close to mine, against mine, resting his head on my chest. I stroke his hair and kiss his forehead as I rock him in what I hope is a soothing motion. And it's then that his tears finally come, hard and fast, and it breaks my heart watching him be so broken. It leaves me gasping for breath like someone had just ripped my lungs from my body, it hurts so badly. "Shh," I whisper, with other platitudes made to comfort as I hold onto him as tightly as I can.

JACOB

Never. I've never broken down in front of Nessie before. I've always tried to carry my burdens alone, to shield her from them as best I could. But this time… this time I can't. It's beyond my control and beyond my capacity to protect her from this, or anything for that matter, when right now I can't even find the strength to hold myself in one piece. I feel as if someone has just shattered my heart into a million pieces. For a while, for just a while longer, as the shock spreads throughout my system, I do manage to keep myself together, simply because it's all just trying to sink in.

But as soon as she puts her arms around me and draws me close, I can't hold it back anymore. All the tension built up over the last hour, all the anguish I'm feeling right now erupts as my resolve to stay strong crumbles completely. I feel my shoulders racking with sobs, my tears coming down like they haven't done in years, spilling over and soaking her shirt. I want to ask her to tell me that she didn't see what I just saw, but there's no running away this time. Reality's right there, in the form of my father's broken body. There's no more room for denial. Only acceptance.

But how? How can I accept this?

The whole time, Nessie's presence is a constant comfort, and even though I don't like having to lean on her, this once, just this once, I can't not do that. I've never had to draw strength from her as much as I do now. Everything I've ever known feels like it could be a lie – if there's one thing solid in my life that I know I can rely on right now, it's Nessie. Yet even as I weep, there's a nagging voice in my head reminding me that I can't weep for long. That I'm going to have to push all this grief aside and step up. I still have to tell the family. I still have to send my father off. This momentary release will have to last me a while.

At long last, I manage to find it in me to pull myself up and away from her. My head still feels like it's burning, my chest like it's being compressed, but I sit up anyway and cover my eyes with one hand, forcing myself to put a plug on the emotions for now. Finally I draw a deep, staggering breath as I wipe the tear stains off my face. "Thanks. For being here," I say quietly to Nessie, my throat hurting as I do so. We sit in silence for a while longer as I try to gather myself together again.

When I know I can stand up without falling apart again, I do just that. For a moment, the sight of my dad's disfigured face threatens to rip the ground right out from beneath my feet all over again, but by some miracle I manage. It may have something to do with Nessie's hand still holding mine, still lending me her support. Support that I've never had to ask of her before. Ever. At this point, whether by its own will or mine, my hand slips away from hers. With a deep sigh, I take one last look at my father before replacing the sheet over his head. Before leaving the room, I bring the same hand that had been in Nessie's down to grip his limp one that lay beneath the bleached-white fabric. "Love you Dad," I whisper. And then I let him go.

The feeling that I get right then washes over me like a tidal wave. It's this incredibly real, incredibly profound feeling of emptiness. Like there's a whole chunk of me that's missing. Like there's a hole, an actual physical hole in my heart. And in that moment, it's as if even Nessie might not be able to fill that hollow.

"How do we–" My voice cracks and I clear my throat and start over properly. "How do we go about doing the… arrangements?" I ask Charlie as I step outside again. He looks a little taken aback, as if he'd been expecting to be the one to bring that up at this stage, not the other way around. He begins to say something about helping to sort it out for me, but I hardly hear what he's saying anymore. I'm looking up at the wall, at the clock that's caught my eye. It's close to five in the morning. Even allowing for the time they would've taken to get him here from the scene of the accident and to clean up his body and to finally contact me and for me to get here, this would mean that the crash would've taken place at around the same time Nessie and I got home last night. But Dad hardly ever leaves the house after dark, at least not that I've known of in recent years. This realisation hits me over the head. Hard.

What was he doing?

"Charlie, where did it happen?" I ask, cutting him off in mid-sentence. It's the first time I'm actually asking about the accident, acknowledging it. It's the first time I'm even wanting to know. But for what reason I'm not entirely sure. It's not like it would make any difference. "What time?"

NESSIE

Jake slowly pulled away from me and composed himself. I was going to tell him that he didn't need to be tough for me. I didn't care if he cried for days. If it was my dad, I probably would cry for days. Without stopping. He was allowed to be sad, broken, desperate. And he was allowed to express that. But before I knew what was happening, he was helping me to my feet and he had everything bottled up. I would almost feel guilty for starting the tears again, for being the reason that he broke all over again. I reached up and wiped away the few tears that he had missed. He thanks me for being there, and I reassure him with a quietly spoken, "Always."

Then he pulls completely away from me. And my fingers ache for him. For his touch. But he needs this. He needs to say goodbye to his dad, so I let him. I'm ready to receive him after he says goodbye and covers Billy again. But he walks right past me, almost as if I'm not even there. And I try not to feel the stab of pain that that causes. I know he's upset. I know he's reeling. I can't blame him for being unfocused. He slips out of the door and I take a moment to spend with Billy myself. I reach down and take his hand into mine, just as Jake did, holding it tightly. "I'll miss you," I say to him, my voice shaking slightly. "I love you, but you know that." Then I say something that maybe would sound silly to anyone else, but I want to say it to him. I can't stop the smile that spreads across my face as I remember the conversation again. "I'm glad we got to dance." And then something even dumber. I give his hand one more squeeze before saying. "Rest well."

And then I walk out to join Jake and Charlie in the hallway, barely hearing the end of Jake's question. I move over next to him, again taking his hand into mine. Charlie looks uncomfortable. And then he says. "I'm not sure what your dad was up to tonight," he answers honestly. "He called to tell me he couldn't watch the game tonight. Something about going to Seattle." But it was obvious Charlie had no idea why he had gone to Seattle, he seemed to be looking at Jake, like Jake could fill in the blanks for him. "It must have happened on his way home. Just outside of Forks."

Charlie continues to speak, answering the other question. "We arrived on the scene about two hours ago. He was already gone. Probably died instantly, felt no pain."

Charlie had never been good with words and I could tell that his last words were meant to comfort, but I didn't know if they would.

Then Charlie made an offer that seemed to make him uncomfortable. Like I said, he'd never been big with words. And the showing of emotions had always been difficult too. But Jake was like a son to him, since he had grown up in Bella's generation. "Do you need anything? Anyone you want me to call?" Though he didn't seemed thrilled at the idea of breaking this news to anyone else, especially not another one of Billy's children.

JACOB

Even as Nessie takes my hand again, I feel my thoughts getting jumbled up inside my head. None of this makes sense. What would my dad have been doing in Seattle? The question is on Charlie's face and I know it's on mine too. From his words, it sounds like the accident hadn't involved anyone else. With the weather we had last night, the roads must have been slick. In the dark, that couldn't have helped. Dad could easily have veered off somehow. But the impact was so severe… The possibilities start to swim in my mind – if it was another car, a duck, or a drunken teenager... But if Charlie had any more information, I know he would've told me by now anyway.

He goes on to, in his own awkward way, try to console me somehow. As if it helped. Probably died instantly, felt no pain… his words echo in my head. I wish I could believe that. But the way my father's face had looked when I lifted the sheet… It didn't look like one that hadn't suffered, even though he really might not have. And to think that it had probably hit him without him even realising it, that was cruel in its own right. I know my dad loved life. He wouldn't have been prepared to go – he would've at least wanted the chance to say goodbye, to set our minds here at ease. But it seemed that even that little was too much to ask for. It was taken from him, and it was taken from us. He was taken from us.

I look up when Charlie asks if I need anything, if I need him to call anyone. I stare at him blankly for a moment, still stuck somewhere in the middle of a wet, slippery road just outside Forks, looking at my father through the broken window of his crumpled vehicle. "Uhm…" Help. He was offering help. "Well, I could use some of your help with sorting out this end of things. Whatever procedures there are." I pause briefly, thinking about what he'd said next. "But I'll inform the rest myself." I don't know if I can really handle taking on that task. There'll be screaming and more breaking down involved. But Charlie's already done enough as it is, and I should really be there for my family when they find out. Like it or not, I'm just going to have to toughen up for it.

"Thanks Charlie." My dad was his best friend, I know he's hurting too. And so is Nessie, and Bella out there, and soon it'll include Rachel and Rebecca and the pack. I need to keep this going. For their sake, I can't afford to fall apart right now. "And… one more thing, Charlie," I add. I manage to keep my voice firm but I have to tighten my hold on Nessie's hand slightly to keep my own from shaking. "Under no circumstances is anyone else to see the body. Especially not my sisters. Could you see to that please?" It feels horrible, so detached, to be referring to my dad in there as 'the body'. But it's true, all that's left is a corpse. And it's a badly broken one. I know my sisters would want to see him like I did, and they would probably fight me for it, but I just can't let it haunt them too. They need to remember him the way he was when he was alive. Not like this. Certainly not like this.

NESSIE

Jake holds my hand tightly while he talks to Charlie. And I wish there was a more solid, substantial way for me to let him know that I'm here. I'm really here for him. I feel his pain, literally because seeing him this broken causes me physical pain. And I feel the loss too. We are going through this together. But standing uselessly next to him, holding his hand, it didn't feel like enough. It felt like I could never do enough in this situation to make anything better for him. I squeezed his hand back, hoping that it helped him at least a little.

Charlie nodded. "I'll take care of most everything on my end, unless I need you. If I do, I'll call." Charlie still seemed awkward as he tried to control his own emotions and it appeared be strong for Jake. It looked like maybe he wanted to hug the younger man, but didn't know if that would be appropriate. When Jake asked about keeping others from seeing Billy's body, he nodded. "I'll tell them that the body's been identified and not to allow any viewing." He rubbed his forehead awkwardly. "No one will argue..." he said, implying that the state of Billy's body would inspire others' compliance. He shifted from foot to foot before looking at us and saying. "I should go handle the paperwork." He gave Jake an awkward pat on the shoulder and gave me a squeeze around the shoulders before walking off.

I turned to Jake, wondering what he was up to doing tonight. I took his other hand in mine, turning him to face me, resting my forehead against his. I closed my eyes for a moment, preparing myself for the heartache I would see in his when I opened them. I looked up into his eyes and what I found there shattered my heart into a million pieces. He looked so hurt and so vacant all at once. My breath caught in my throat as I wondered if I could ever help put him back together again. "What do you want to do tonight?" I asked him gently. "Go back home? Or should we go talk to Rachel?" I was going to let him decide, I would follow and support him, no matter the decision. "Or if you want I can talk to your sisters..." I knew he felt he had to, but I could bare that burden, I could handle it for him if he was too upset. "No one would blame you for being upset..."

JACOB

As Charlie walks away, I think about how in barely the blink of an eye, my dad has been reduced to this. A body. Paperwork. News to be conveyed. I keep feeling as if something's missing, like someone just stuffed a heap of blank pages in-between before slapping in the tragic ending. For a moment, as Nessie puts her forehead to mine, the pain seems to dull, just a little. I need her so badly right now, but at the same time I can't put that need into words, can't even begin to express it in any way. And then I think about how, when we're together, it always seems like we're the only two people in the world. I've always loved that. Yet after tonight, that thought, instead of being comforting, feels strangely cold. Because death won't end with my father's.

She asks about what I want to do next, if we should go talk to Rachel. I consider going home first, waiting until at least dawn before informing my sisters. What's the point in waking them up now only to give them a rude shock? But I don't want to go home now, I don't want to sit idle and give my mind a chance to roam. When Nessie suggests being the one to talk to my sisters, I realise that she's trying to make this easier for me. But I could never put this on her shoulders. Not when I know how difficult it would be for her too. "No one would blame you for being upset..."

My eyes soften as I untwine one hand from hers and pat her cheek lightly. "It's okay, I have to do this," I insist. I'm not thrilled about having to, and neither is she by the looks of it, but this is my burden to carry, not hers. "Don't worry, I'll be fine." I throw a glance at the wall clock again and give a small sigh. It's still too early. "But I think we should wait till morning before telling the others. This'll be the last good sleep they'll have for a while, so let's just let them have that."

I assume that she wants to come with me either way. But as I look at her, I see the deep concern in her eyes, mingling with her own desperate pain over my father's death. I know how much he meant to her too. She doesn't need my pain to wear her down as well. "You could follow your parents home, you know," I tell her quietly, trying again to give her a way out, to spare her the stress of having to deal with distraught relatives on top of everything else. Right now, it's all I can give her. "You've already done a lot for me just by being here tonight. I couldn't ask for more than that."

NESSIE

He insists that he has to do this. I knew that he would. I knew he'd never let me shoulder this alone. But I would. I would shoulder this a thousand times over if it brought him even an ounce of peace. I nod slowly. "If you change your mind. that would be okay too. It wouldn't be a burden." I'm trying to reassure him. I want him to know that he doesn't have to shoulder this alone. In fact if he wants to give as much of it to me as he can, that would be okay. I would be more than willing to accept it, to take it on.

He continues to say that he wants them to get one final night's worth of good sleep. I nod silently, untwining my other hand from his and moving closer to him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him close, resting my head on his chest. I listen to his breathing, feel his chest moving up and down. Listen to the thump thump thump of his heart. I let out a slow sigh. "Jake..." I want to say something, something that will make a difference. But I can't think of any words that will carry any weight, so I say again the old stand by. "I'm so sorry." And I mean it more than I've possibly meant anything in my entire life. I breathe in his scent as I hold him close. I glance at the clock while I hold him and wonder what we should do for the next few hours before the rest of the world wakes up.

It's then that he offers me an out again. Like he's afraid of what this will do to me. Like he's afraid I'm not strong enough, that I can't really do all of this. But I can. I could do anything for him. He gives me the strength to survive anything and everything. And I know he needs me. I shake my head lightly against his chest when he says I could follow my parents home. "Not unless you're coming too," I say to him. And to be honest, I don't think that's the best idea right now. He might kill Rosalie, or Blondie as he calls her, right now. She's not cruel, but I don't know if she'd have the kind of compassion and sympathy that my Jake deserves right now.

I don't want to argue with him, to point out that I'm with him for better or worse. I'm with him always. I don't want him to insist that I go. I just want him to accept that I'm gonna stay. "You wanna get out of here?" I ask him quietly, knowing that he probably doesn't want to stand in this hallway, so close to the reality of what's happened, Billy's dead body, anymore than I do.

JACOB

She refuses to leave me and I have to say that a part of me is glad. Having her with me, it doesn't make things better, nothing could, but it makes it that much more bearable. And maybe I need that, maybe I need her to stay beside me so that I'll have a reason not to break. I rest my chin on her head, absentmindedly letting my fingers twirl around her hair. I try to get myself to focus on her, her touch, her scent. But the nauseating stench of death lingering in the air is overwhelming. As if reading my mind, she asks, "You wanna get out of here?"

I slowly unwrap my arms from around her and nod. "Yeah. Yeah, let's go." I take her hand and together we walk back down the corridor and back out through the main doors. Every step takes me farther from my dad, but then I picture his face as I'd just seen it and remember that that's not true. Dad's already as far away from me as he can possibly get. "We can just… take a drive or something. Anywhere. I just want to get away from here."

Back outside, Bella and Edward are still hanging around, waiting for us to come out again. I know Edward must've seen into our heads by now and I wish again that he couldn't. No one else needs to see. I let go of Nessie's hand to let go check in with her parents. I just don't feel like talking to them right now. I wouldn't know what to say, and neither would they. "Go on," I tell her, nodding in their direction. "I'll wait by the truck."

NESSIE

He tells me to go and talk to my parents, but I don't want to. It's not that I don't want to check in with them, or talk to them even. I love them. And to have a moment to maybe break, even if for a second. To just pretend like I didn't have to be strong and let the pain and grief seize me and take me over. Just for a second. Not for long, just for a second. But the truth is, I don't want to leave Jake. Not even for a second. I don't want him to even think that I might change my mind about standing by him. I don't want him to feel abandoned. But maybe he needs a moment alone or something. I look at him unsure, but he nods again and I nod back, taking his hand into mine again. "I'll only be a minute," I promise before letting him go and watching him walk away. I watch his stature and his gait. What had once been my amazingly strong, rock, now looked so defeated. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying at just how small he seemed right now.

Then I turned to my parents, and I let it all show through, come spilling out. Everything I was feeling. Though I didn't make a noise as they comforted me. I let the tears come silently as they took turns holding me and stroking my hair, like we had an unspoken agreement for no one to make a sound about how upset I was. I didn't want Jake to know. Then he would send me away for sure. After a few minutes in each of their arms I pulled away their eyes asked if I would be okay and I gave them a shaky smile and nodded. "Jake and I are going to waste some time, until it's a decent hour to go tell Rachel." They nod, but my dad's eyes, they are unmistakably asking if I'm sure. I nod again. "He needs me. I want to be there for him." This is an answer he can accept. Then I wave and I move off quickly towards the truck.

I get in the driver's side again, Jake already in the passenger side. I turn the key in the ignition and sit for a moment in silence. What am I supposed to do? Why didn't I ask mom and dad? Why didn't I ask them what to do? What to say? How to try and fix him? How to try and put him back together? How to make this right somehow? Why didn't I ask?

I put the truck into reverse and begin to drive. I'm not sure where to go. He doesn't want to go home. I can't take him to my house. We can't go to Billy's. It's too early to go to Rachel's. And I don't know how he'd feel about going to the beach right now. The beach is usually his place. It makes him feel calm. But it's usually a happy place. Or a place to talk. This might be a problem even too big for the beach. So instead I find myself parking at the bottom of the slope that leads to the cliffs. The one the boys like to dive off of. The ones that I've even dove off of a few times. It seems right somehow. Jake comes here to work off steam usually. And to me it's always seemed so close to the sky. Close to God, if there is one as Carlisle believes, and therefore close to heaven. Close to Billy.

Again silence pervades the car. "Shall we go up?" I hate feeling this unsure of what to say around him.

JACOB

I have no idea where we're going, and I don't even bother to ask. I don't really care if we were to just drive around in circles until morning comes. I don't even care if morning never comes; I'd rather it not come. I'd rather not have to tell Rachel that our father's dead, to see her tears and hold back my own. I sit in silence, my eyes fixed on a point ahead though I don't feel like I'm seeing anything. I try not to think, to zone out. I try not to think about Dad, and yet at the same time I'm afraid that if I don't think about him, the memories will start to fade and I'll never be able to retrieve them.

"Shall we go up?"

At the sound of Nessie's voice, I blink and realise that we've stopped. Go up? I look around to see where we are and despite the familiarity of the place, it takes a moment for me to recognise it. "Oh…" I say aloud to myself when it finally clicks before answering her question. "Yeah, sure." I get out of the truck as she does the same. When she comes over to me, my arm moves out to wrap around her waist, drawing her close. I may be distracted, but her presence feels strong, solid. More solid than anything else in my world right now.

It's not often that I come here after dark. I'm not even sure if I ever have. As we head up together, I guide her over the rough spots, more by default instinct than anything. "Careful," I tell her quietly as I hold onto her tighter. I don't know what I'd do if she were to get hurt, especially now. I can't lose her too. Sure, nothing's going to happen and yes, it's an irrational thought, but nothing seems rational now. What happened last night is anything but rational.

NESSIE

He seems lost for a moment. And that worries me. Not that I blame him at all for being distracted, for being lost in thoughts or memories, for being distant. I would probably do the same thing if I were in his shoes. But I'm still worried about him, and his absence. I want so badly to do something that matters. But I know rationally that I can't fix this single handedly, and that it can't be fixed at all this soon. I guess it worries me most because we always talk about things. And in the past few months, that bond has grown even deeper, though I never imagined that it could. We hardly hold anything back. We don't even worry about sounding silly or stupid for the most part anymore. We just talk, we keep everything open between us. And right now, he's so far away and he's not talking about any of it with me.

As I reach his side, he wraps his arm around me and pulls me close and I breathe in his calming scent and revel in his warm touch. It feels comforting to be close to him. It feels right, it feels almost natural, though the silence is still between us. And it soothes my pain, it calms the irrational fears that are running through my head about losing one of my parents, about losing Jake. When he pulls me closer and tells me to be careful, things feel right again, even if for the moment and I pull him closer to me.

We make it to the top of the cliffs and I pull away, looking up at the sky and closing my eyes saying a silent prayer. And then I move towards the edge of the cliff and sit down, my feet dangling over the water. The freezing water that rests so far down. I stare at it for a long moment. "Come sit with me," I say to Jake, patting the ground next to me. I wait until I feel his warm arm brush against mine, and his feet enter my line of vision as he sits. I take his hand into mine again, resting it in my lap. "Do you want to talk?" I ask him quietly. More because I want to know what's going on in his head than anything. And I know he probably wants to stay in silence. If he wanted to talk, he would. Right?

I look up at him and again the air is sucked from my lungs at the pain evident in his eyes. "You don't have to," I assure him. More than anything I want him to be comfortable. "We can just sit here like this, until we go." I nod, and give him the slightest of smiles, so he doesn't feel pressured to talk. What if he wants to talk, but doesn't know how to start? I could start us off if he gave me some sign that talking to me is what he wanted.

JACOB

When Nessie gestures for me to join her on the edge of the cliff, I do just that, slowly lowering myself to the ground and taking a seat beside her. She asks if I want to talk, and then assures me that I don't have to. And I'm torn between both. I don't want to talk about how my dad's gone for good, how I will never ever see him again, how he's gone from being my father to becoming a memory. But I'm afraid that if I don't then I'll start to forget… forget what he looked like alive, what his voice sounded like, what he smelled like, how he laughed when he was happy or shouted at me when he was mad… I want to tell her how I feel and yet I don't want to burden her with my pain. It makes me want to tear my heart out. It makes me want to weep till I have no more tears left and scream at the top of my lungs.

But I can't. I can't do that. I need to stay in one piece for her and for the rest of the family. If I fall apart, I might not be able to pick myself back up again.

I draw a deep, uneven breath as I silently use my arm to draw her to me. Her closeness keeps me going, keeps me breathing. It gives me something to live for. I could lose everything else but I could not lose her. But as my hand squeezes hers, I feel the ring on her finger, the ring that I had slipped on for her just hours ago. It feels like it's been years, and it feels like all the happiness we were meant to have has vanished. I look deep into her eyes for a long moment, seeing everything there, everything we've just been through, from the joy on the beach to the loss that came with that dreaded phone call. My eyebrows furrow as I squeeze my eyes shut and press my face into the curls falling over the side of her neck. "I love you, Nessie," I whisper brokenly. If I can hold onto nothing else, I need to hold onto this. "I love you so much."

NESSIE

He seems so torn for a moment, but he doesn't seem like he wants to talk. And I can respect that, for now, he wants to keep his thoughts to himself. But he can't be silent forever and I really hope that he won't try and be. I really want to try and help him cope, help him handle this, but I can't if he won't open up to me. But for now, I can enjoy his company in silence. I can support him without using words. Whenever he needs me, looks for me, I will be there next to him.

He pulls me close and I feel comforted that he's not pushing me away, he's leaning on me. He squeezes my hand, and I'm sure that he's aware of the ring resting on my finger now, just as I am, as its band presses into my fingers. It's impossible to believe that that moment took place just last night. That just last night we had been so happy, glowing, ecstatic. Just last night we had been celebrating. And now. Now, we were both trying to keep it together, trying to not break down. And it's hard to imagine that we were celebrating and making love while Billy was dying alone. But I pushed those thoughts away. They wouldn't do anyone any good. And because I know in my heart of hearts that we didn't know. And more importantly that Billy never would have begrudged us our happiness. It, he would have wanted over anything else, like all parents do.

His head lowers to my neck. I feel his nose nuzzling my neck and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close. And then he whispers that he loves me so much. One of my hands rubs his back while the other travels up to run through his short cropped hair. "I love you too," I murmur against his cheek as I rest my head against his. "I always have and I always will," I reassure him. I don't want him to think for a second that I would turn my back on him if he needed his own time, or if he retreated for a bit during all of this. I would be here for him through that and when he was ready to come back to me, to talk to me. I'll always be here, the light leading him out of the darkness.

We stay like this for a long time, tangled up in each other's arms, holding each other, comforting each other. We stay like that as the darkness begins to fade and become gray by first signs of light. We stay like that as we begin to see the sun. As the sky begins to be painted in pinks and purples and reds. As the sky lights up like a watercolor painting. We stay like that until the sun is fully visible, shining in the sky. A sky that is now blue and filled with clouds. I don't want to leave. Sitting here, with him, watching the sky change has been the most peaceful thing since we heard the news. And I don't want to go ruin someone else's day. I don't want to have to tell Rachel and watch her break and cry. But she deserves to hear it from us. She needs to know. And she deserves to know before she has a chance to worry about where Billy might be.

"Come on," I say quietly, beginning to disentangle myself from him. I know I don't have to say to where. He'll know.


	13. Enough Blame to go Around

JACOB

I realise when she tells me that she loves me too that I was wanting to hear that. Even though I know it in my heart, even though I could never doubt it, I just needed to hear that right now. It gives me something good, something pure to cling to when everything else seems like it’s falling to pieces, crashing to the ground. The thoughts and memories continue to swim through my head, but as we hold each other close, I try to focus on this, try to gather strength from it. Strength that I know I will need to face Rachel.

As dawn breaks across the sky, and for a moment it looks like heaven could be up there. Somewhere, hidden behind the warm pastel shades of early morning. And if I tried hard enough, I could imagine Dad, joking with God about something he saw on TV. I wouldn’t put it past him. And if I tried even harder, I could just see him walking, walking with his own two legs, up to my mother in some fairytale reunion. But the fantasies don’t last long, because they’re quickly shattered by the image of his broken face. When the sun is finally up and shining brightly as if to mock my grief, Nessie suggests leaving. 

I give a quiet nod as I help her to her feet and together, we head back down to the truck. As Nessie begins to drive, I’m relieved to have had that horrid chain of thought broken, yet now I’m filled with dread over what’s about to come. Paul and Rachel will probably be having breakfast right about now, and then they might be thinking about heading over to visit Dad. And I’m going to bring the storm to them and ruin their peace. After the last time, I’m afraid of what this will do to my sister, to find out that she’s just lost another parent to a tragic road accident.

And then before I know it, we’ve arrived. I realise that I don’t know what I’m going to say, how I’m going to break it to her. Standing before the door, I shift slightly on my feet, steeling myself for the moment when she opens that door and greets me with a quizzical half-smile on her face. I glance at Nessie and she gives me a look of encouragement, which makes me knock on the door at last.

When Rachel opens the door, I see that she’s got a spoon in one hand and that she’s still in her dressing robe, her hair tousled from sleep. She looks from me to Nessie, then back at me again. At first she appears pleased to see us, though definitely surprised. “Hey Jake, what’s up-” she begins, and then she seems to register the grave expressions on our faces. The smile slides off her lips slightly as she rephrases. “What’s wrong?”

“Can… can we come in?” I ask her. I want her to be seated for this, in case she faints and hits the ground. Paul emerges from behind her, his eyebrow raised. Rachel steps back to let us in, but then she blocks my way and refuses to budge. She wants to know now. “Jake? Jake, come on, you’re scaring me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You really should sit down for this,” I say quietly, placing a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes widen as she realises what kind of tidings we must’ve brought with us. “What is it?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper now. I open my mouth to speak, trying to find the right words, but there are no right words for this. Before I can say anything more, she makes a guess. “It’s Dad, isn’t it?”

My grip tightens on her shoulder at the mention of our father. I nod mutely before pulling myself together to speak. “There was an accident last night.” She goes for the best case scenario, asking if he’s ‘hurt or something’, but at the back of her mind I know she already knows. And I’m the one who’s going to have to confirm it for her. “He didn’t make it…”

She stares at me blankly for what seems like a whole minute, though it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. Time just seems to have come to standstill. Her lower lip starts to tremble, her spoon falls clattering to the floor. And then the next thing I know her knees are giving way. I reach out to catch her and pull her into my arms as she mutters ‘no’ over and over. The mutters turn to screams as she begins beating my chest with her fists. And then she begins to wail, breaking my heart all over again. I have to force my own tears back as I pull her closer and stroke her hair, trying to give her whatever comfort I can offer, even though I know that there is none, even though I'm as torn apart by this as she is. Over her shoulder my eyes meet Nessie’s briefly, and I know that she feels the pain, my pain, as intensely as I’m feeling it now.

NESSIE

I watch in complete horror as everything seems to go in slow motion. First Jake knocks. Then Rachel answers. She's happy to see us. She wouldn't be if she knew what we had to tell her. She would tell us to leave and never come back, so that she could always live in ignorance of this fact. Whoever said bliss is ignorance and ignorance is bliss wasn't lying. I'd give anything to live in a world where I didn't know Billy was dead. And even though she needs to know, I feel guilty for bringing her over to our side. She seemed to realize too late that this isn't a happy visit. She barely lets us in before saying she wanted to know. She refused to sit down, I wished she would. And then Jake told her, delivered the final blow. At first she didn't move, didn't even blink and then she slid to the ground, going limp. And I felt my chest constrict as I watched her fall apart. And Jake fall apart. I even looked at Paul. He looked for the first time ever like he was slack. I had never seen him look this upset. He even had tears in his eyes as he watched helplessly as Jake tried to comfort Rachel. He reached out for her a few times, like he wanted to hold her, like he felt the desperate need to make it all better that I did. But he always lowered his hands, almost as if he felt they would be completely ineffectual, and that he didn't want to interrupt the brother and sister in this moment. 

Then Jake looked at me from over the top of Rachel's head and our eyes locked. I blinked back my own tears, trying to be strong for him. I couldn't crumble now. He needed me to hold him up, to be his support. I reached out and placed my hand lightly on his back as Rachel slowly began to tire herself out. As her sobs slowly faded, her voice raw and hoarse, silent tears still streaming down her face. "Paul?" she whispered for him hollowly, her voice almost sounding like it echoed in all the empty spaces inside of her. 

"I'm here, baby," Paul said, glad that she finally wanted him. Glad that he had something to do. He reached out for her and took her so gently I thought there was no way his grip could hold as he pulled her up into his arms and away from Jake. Tears were now steadily streaming down Paul's face as he got to see Rachel's. As he got to take in the devastation that this news had delivered to her. As he saw her vacant eyes. He pulled her close, so close I thought that she might literally become a part of him. She rested against him, as if she would never again have the strength to hold her own body up on her own two legs. And maybe she would never have the will. Paul pulled her closer as she whispered, as if from a distant land. "He's gone." 

"I know baby," Paul said quietly, his own voice cracking slightly as he brushed hair away from her tear stained cheeks, pushing it behind her ears. "I know baby," he said again. He seemed as lost for words as I had felt. And then Rachel's gaze fixed on me. 

"I'm so sorry, Rach," I said to her quietly. Again, the words felt as if they carried no weight. As if they meant nothing. She stared at me for a long time, and I wish I knew what she was thinking, as I moved closer to Jake, not wanting him to be alone. And in that moment, something upset Rachel so deeply again that her sobs started. The whole time Paul was watching me. And no one understood what had caused her to break again, but Paul, obviously blamed me, because he had nothing else to think. 

He growled at me menacingly. And I have to admit that I shied away. I was afraid of him because the pain that had been caused to Rachel was deep and unforgivable and he thought it was my fault. "Why did you bring her here?" he demanded of Jake, sneering the word her, as if it were a curse word and as if it took all the strength he possessed to not call me an it or a half breed or some other derogatory word. He stared at me, as if in shock, his own tears beginning to dissipate. "What's wrong with you?" he demands of me, his voice so loud that I jump, the fury of his eyes turned on me. I don't know how to answer. I don't know what I did. "Don't ever bring that heartless half breed here again," he grounds out to Jake through clenched teeth. I see him begin to shake as he feels the need to defend his Rachel. 

"No!" Rachel screams from nowhere again, as if she's seeing something that we can't. A world that none of us could possibly inhabit. And I wince at the pain in that single word. And I feel tears in my eyes from Paul's outburst, though I can't completely blame him for it. This snaps his attention back. And I don't know how, but her eyes lock on his and he begins to calm. Maybe he realizes if he phases with her in his arms, he might kill her, or maybe he realizes that she needs him and he can't help her as a giant wolf, but he calms. And just in time for Rachel's body to completely give way. He quickly pulls her up into his arms bridal style and cradles her close. 

I again lose track of where one ends and the other begins, he's holding her so close. He buries his head in her neck, and his shoulders shake, as I know he's crying. "It's gonna be okay," he tried to soothe her quietly, his own voice broken. "I'm right here, Rach, I'm right here." 

Then he turns his attention to us again. "Leave," is all that he says, his eyes glaring at me so hard I feel like he might actually have the power to make me evaporate or disappear. He begins to walk away from us. Then he turns back to Jake with softer eyes. "I really am sorry, man. I'm gonna lay her down. You can come back by later if you'd like." But it's said in such a way that it's implied that Jake's the only one involved in that you.

JACOB

When my sister asks for Paul, I don’t let go of her until he’s got her, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to hold herself up. Watching her weep and seeing even Paul start to break, I don’t know how I’ve managed to hold the tears in, but I do. For her sake. But on the inside it’s tearing me to shreds. The way her body looks so limp and almost lifeless against Paul’s, I’m almost afraid that I might lose her too. But despite everything, I know that Paul’s heart is in the right place, at least when it comes to Rachel. And she finds comfort in that, the same way it is for me with Nessie. 

"I'm so sorry, Rach," I hear Nessie say quietly before edging closer to me, her arm pressed against mine. And just when I thought that my sister was calming down, she starts crying all over again, getting almost hysterical. The sight and sound hurts so badly that I have to reach around to hold Nessie, just to keep myself from falling apart too. But then suddenly Paul’s growling at Nessie, as if this were her fault, as if he saw her doing something wrong that I couldn’t see. I feel my body tense as my grip on her tightens defensively.

"Don't ever bring that heartless half breed here again." The words send a surge of anger through me in spite of myself. I start to speak, “Don’t you dare call her–” And then he begins to shake visibly, I push Nessie behind me, blocking her from him in case he attacks in a fit of rage. But then Rachel screams again and we’re all drawn back to the reality of the situation, that this is really not the time. I force myself to remain calm, because none of us are in the right frame of mind, every single one of us here is distraught, even Paul himself. Yet it still makes me reel to have Nessie offended this way, especially now, like this. 

I feel myself move forward slightly out of reflex when my sister starts to fall again, but Paul’s got her and he seems to have sorted himself out some, at least for her. Seeing my sister like this causes the aching in my chest to feel as if it’s spreading to the rest of my body. I want to be close to her, to offer something, anything, but Paul turns to us with angry eyes and demands that we leave. For just a moment, his expression softens slightly and I see him standing there as my brother. But the animosity towards Nessie is still looming, I can tell.

I’m at a loss. I don’t want to leave Rachel, but I don’t want to fight Paul now and I don’t want to put Nessie’s neck on the line. Swallowing back on my feelings, I keep my mouth shut, clenching my jaw as I give him a small nod. I throw one last pained look in my sister’s direction, but I know that despite everything, Paul loves her and he’ll look after her. I don’t need to tell him to because I know he will. In fact, she probably needs him more than she needs me right now, and I’m sure he can offer her more than I can at this stage. 

“Come on, let’s go,” I say quietly to Nessie as I place a protective hand on her back and lead her out, away from Paul’s menacing glare. Once we’re outside, I plant a kiss on her forehead. “I’m sorry… Don’t take his words to heart. She’s upset… he’s upset… I shouldn’t have brought you here. He could’ve hurt you.” He could easily have lost control. I could’ve lost both my father and my love in the same day. And Rachel… Rachel looks like she might never recover, like this blow could finish her off. It’s like my entire family is going to fall apart before my eyes.

When we get to the truck, I place my hands on the back of it, feeling the emotions rip through me without mercy. Trying not to let it show on my face, the strain travels down my arms instead and I feel the metal crumple beneath my fingers. 

NESSIE

"It's not your fault," I assure him immediately after he apologizes, but I linger in his hold for a moment, letting his lips hover on my forehead. I understand, sort of, what's going on for Paul. If it seemed for a second that he might be the obvious cause of Jake's pain, then I would demand he get out to. I would get angry. I would defend Jake from whatever unspoken threat he might hold. But I don't want him to think that he shouldn't have brought me here. Rachel and I are friends. And I wanted to be here for both of them. I shake my head at him. "It's not your fault," I insist again, "Tensions were running high. But I belonged here with you. Here for you. For Rachel." I didn't want him to think for a second that he had to leave me behind when he needed me. And then I did something totally Jake like, something he did to cheer me up. I made a lame joke and tweak his nose. "Besides, who's afraid of the big bad wolf?" 

As he goes over to his truck and rests his hands on the edge, I can tell he's torn. I can tell that he doesn't want to leave his sister. He doesn't want to leave me. I move over to stand beside him as the metal folds under the pressure of his hands. I wait a few minutes and I reach out and touch his arm gently. "If you want to stay, you can," I assure him quietly. I want him to have what he needs. "I can wait for you at your place." I knew he would want me there when he finally went home. "Or if you want me here, I can wait in the truck." I continued honestly, "I don't want to leave you if you don't want me to." I squeeze his arm. "But if this is where you want to be, need to be, with Rachel, with your family, then I understand." Though the fact that I couldn't be included in that group, the family group, stung.

JACOB

Of course she insists that it isn’t my fault, but I still can’t help but feel partly to blame. I should’ve known that, like she said, tensions would run high, and this being Paul after all, I should’ve expected it. But I wasn’t thinking straight. I wasn’t thinking about Paul, or Nessie, just about delivering the news to my sister. And even now I still can’t think straight. She tries to lighten the mood by reaching up to tweak my nose and making a joke. For a moment my heart warms up slightly, touched by her concern and her desire to make things better, despite the fact that we both know that’s not going to happen now.

She talks about what to do next, reassuring me that either way, she would understand. But I don’t know if I can ask her to go anymore, after seeing Rachel like that. The thought of facing her alone is overwhelming. But then I don’t want Paul to go into a frenzy and not only upset Rachel even more but hurt Nessie as well. Still, wouldn’t Rachel want to have her friend around? Maybe Nessie, being a girl, would be able to relate to her in a way that neither of us can, and isn’t that what she really needs now?

I let out a sigh. “I think we should leave them alone for a little while. I’ll give Rebecca a call first, and then we can come back,” I say quietly, dreading the thought of having to inform another sister. I pause for a moment, covering my hand over hers, before adding, “But maybe you should stay outside, just in case.” That way she’ll be safe, but I know she wants to be here for Rachel too so if Rachel wants her then she’ll be around.

The next two hours turn out to be draining. We headed back for the cliffs, where I made the call. My nephew picked up the call, excited to hear his Uncle Jake on the other line. We’ve never met, but over the phone he’s mentioned several times that he’s been begging his mom to come over so we can really see each other. It breaks my heart that we finally might be able to, but under these circumstances… I forced a smile into my voice for his sake and then ask for his mother.

Talking to Rebecca was awful. I asked her to sit down, the same way I’d asked Rachel to. And when it finally came out, I swear I could hear her break over the phone. She was not nearly as hysterical as my other sister, but somehow she sounded even more upset if that was even possible. She was feeling guilty, guilty because Dad had asked her countless times to come home, at least for a few days, because he missed her. But every time, she had come up with some excuse, trying to avoid having to be back in the place that held all her memories of Mom. And now she whispered to me, tears in her haunted voice, that her grief over one parent had led her to neglect the other, and she would never have the chance to make up for it.

With Nessie beside me the whole time, her hand stroking my arm soothingly, I listen to my sister. I try to calm her down, to assure her that Dad had never blamed her for it, and after what seemed like the longest time, she finally pulled herself together enough to say that she would call me back once she’d made travel arrangements. After the phone call, Nessie and I sat there for a while longer, giving both ourselves as well as Rachel a bit more time to sort ourselves out. 

But now we’re back outside Rachel’s and I have to work up the courage to go in there again without breaking down. The emotions being pent up inside are starting to kill me, but I keep telling myself that I have to do this. Nessie and I exchange a look of understanding before I head back in again, this time let in by Paul. I don’t miss the ugly stare he throws at Nessie in the truck, but he doesn’t say anything so I don’t either. I just hope she didn’t notice. 

I find Rachel now in the living room, lying on her side on the couch. Paul sits down beside her and lays her head on his lap, so gently as if she were made of glass. And it seems like it. She just looks so fragile now. When she sees me she sniffles and for a moment I think she might burst into tears again, but instead she comments on the fact that I’m alone. “I had Nessie wait outside,” I explain, to which she stares at me as if I’ve lost it. 

“Why would you make her do that?” she asks, horrified. Paul grunts and says something about Nessie not even being fit to linger around outside and taint the air. For the first time, Rachel seems to come alive again, even if for a short time. She lifts herself up and smacks his shoulder, as if she could really hurt him. “You! I should’ve known. You know she’s my friend, Paul. Now you go out there and ask her to come in right this instant,” she scolds him. If our father hadn’t just died, I would’ve guffawed. “And say you’re sorry.” Paul hesitates, but she smacks him again and demands, “Now.”

As Paul gets up begrudgingly, I see her shoulders fall slack again and that light seems to dim down once more, but I’m glad to have seen in that moment that she’s not completely destroyed. One look at her again and Paul relents, not wanting to upset her any further. My eyes watch him closely as he heads outside. For Rachel, he would do it, and he would restrain himself, but I’ll take no chances.

NESSIE

I see Paul coming outside, down the stairs, towards the truck. And I wonder briefly how this isn't okay. I'm not breaking the rules. I'm waiting outside. He told me not to come back to see Rachel, and I'm not. I'm here for Jake. I turn the key in the ignition, starting up the truck sure that he's gonna tell me to leave. To see Jake later. That this arrangement isn't okay with him either. And again, I can't totally blame him. If love makes you do irrational things, then imprinting makes you do downright crazy things. 

"Wait," he yells over the roar of the truck. And I stop, I roll down the window and I do just that, I wait. "What are you doing here?" he demands, "I told you not to come back." He sounds like he wants to be angry, but can't. He sounds like he wants to say something more. And I can't identify those other emotions in his voice at all. 

I fiddle with the keys still dangling from the key ring as I look at him. "I'm here for Jake," I tell him simply. "He needs me. He needs me close. I can't deny him that now." And then I lock eyes with him, no fear evident in mine as I say. "And I'd like to be able to be there for Rachel." 

He stares at me in disbelief and rubs his brow like he always does when he's thinking things through, trying to figure them out. Finally his shoulders slump and his hands move down, resting in front of him where he fidgets with his fingers. "Rachel would like that too," he finally says. Then he takes in a deep breath and says as if reading from a cue card. "And so would I. I'm sorry for overreacting earlier." 

I smile slightly. Rachel made him come out and apologize and invite me in. I'm sure of it. But I also know this is the best apology anyone will ever get from Paul. Paul is horrible with words most of the time, and even worse with calm ones. And I'd rarely heard him give an apology that didn't sound scripted because most of his apologies came through Rachel. I turned off the truck and rolled up the window. 

"Come on, let's get you somewhere warm," he says trying to be human and taking on that almost second nature way of protecting the other imprints from anything bad. He’s bound to protect me and at least tolerate me because I am the soulmate of one of his brothers. He places a hand on my back and guides me up the steps and into the house. The second we enter the living room, his hand flies off of me, as if he's been burned, as if he thinks Jake will be angry. 

I sit down across from Rachel and Paul as Paul rests her head on his lap again, his fingers raking through her hair. She doesn't look any better. I look over at Jake next to me and take his hand in mine. 

We sit awkwardly for what seems like forever. Me not wanting to do anything to upset the straining balance. Paul totally caught up in Rachel. Rachel wherever she is. And Jake. Jake and I are just as fixed on Rachel. Almost like we're waiting for either all the fight to go out of her, or for her to come up swinging, like if we stare long enough one of the two will happen. Finally I can't take it anymore. "Rachel..." I begin, but just like with Jake, I don't know what to say next. 

But her name being voiced by me, brings some light back to her eyes. "Nessie," she says. And she almost smiles, before it falls, as if she just remembered about Billy and her eyes fill with tears. She begins to say some of the things that I wish Jake would. That I wished he'd talk to me, whine to me, anything. "I just don't understand..." My brow creases in worry. What doesn't she understand? She does understand that he's dead, right? She shakes her head. "I know he's..." she trails off, swallows thickly and then barely chokes the next word past her sobs,"....dead." Her shoulders rack with sobs for a long moment. "But why him? Why now? So many things he was looking forward to were starting to happen. He was so excited about Jake proposing he'd already bought you a gift." Her eyes unfocus again, she looks a million miles away as she murmurs in a way that we wouldn't be able to hear if we didn't all have super hearing. "He went to get it last night."

JACOB

Rachel sobs quietly as we wait for Paul to come back with Nessie. I look up when they do, seeing his hand on her back one moment and then back to his side the next. I guess that’s the most you can expect out of Paul. I’m glad to have Nessie beside me holding my hand now, though it doesn’t seem to make the situation any less awkward. I watch Rachel anxiously, waiting for something from her, anything, until at last Nessie breaks the silence.

Finally Rachel crawls out of her shell, her fingers running up and down Paul’s knee distractedly. "I just don't understand..." she whispers, the tone of her voice so heartbroken that I almost want to run away so I wouldn’t have to hear it. She asks the same questions that have been running through my mind since I first got the call. Why him, and why now? I find myself getting caught up in the tangle of her emotions as well as my own, thinking that if she doesn’t stop now I might just end up breaking down in sobs myself.

But then she says something that makes my head snap up suddenly. “He was so excited about Jake proposing he'd already bought you a gift.” My thumb rolls over the ring on Nessie’s finger as I feel my eyes start to sting. He’d already bought us a gift. A gift, even before we’d managed to make anything final, as if he knew better than we did that it was going to happen. And he was looking forward to it, he must’ve been. I recall how he reacted when I first told him about my plan. He’d said it was about time for a good party around these parts. And then he’d told me that Mom would’ve loved to see this day…

"He went to get it last night."

And that’s when my hand loses its grip on Nessie’s, going almost completely limp. My jaw drops as I stare at her in shock and try to work out if I’d just heard this right. “He what?” I choke out in disbelief, my whole body tensing up as I find myself sitting up straight. Rachel rubs her eyes and repeats a little louder, “He went to get your gift last night.”

Our gift. Seattle. The accident. Please tell me I’m putting this together all wrong. I feel my hand slide away from Nessie’s and onto the couch. “Last night? He went to get our gift last night?” It’s like I need her to drive it into my head for it to be true.

“He got the call that it was ready, so I told him that Paul and I would go with him today,” she whispers, her voice filled with remorse and guilt over what had happened and what could’ve been. But it’s nothing compared to what’s going on inside me right now as the pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place. “But he was too excited. He said no, he’d go pick it up himself right away.”

I swallow hard as I feel my heart beating faster in my chest. She’s already said it all, and yet something inside forces me to put in the last piece, the one that I’d been holding in my hand since Charlie had given it to me at the hospital. “From Seattle. He went to pick it up from Seattle.” Saying it aloud makes it final and the moment the last word leaves my lips, the guilt comes down on me in waves, sucking the air right out of my lungs, as the realisation of what really happened last night dawns on me.

Dad’s dead because of me. He’s dead because I proposed. He’s dead because of my engagement to Nessie.


	14. Our Love is a Weapon

NESSIE

Rachel says that he went to get our gift last night, the gift she said Billy was so excited about. And my world stands still. It stops moving. I can hardly breathe. My chest, my lungs won't move, air can't come in and out. For a moment I think that I might hyperventilate. But one look at Jake and I see that I can't break like that. I can't freak out and lose control and leave him in Paul's shoes, having to pick up the pieces while his own are scattered everywhere. I focus on Paul's breaths from across the room because he's the one that's breathing most regularly and I close my eyes and focus on forcing myself to breathe when he does until I realize I'm breathing normally again, long, deep breaths. 

I look at Jake again to see that he's making all the connections that I myself am struggling not to make. It lines up perfectly. But the truth is that we can't blame ourselves for this. No one could have ever predicted that Billy would buy a present that he'd have to go to Seattle to get, or that he'd go get it late at night, or that the roads would be slick. After all how many times had Billy made the trip to and from Seattle without incident? So many I've lost count. We couldn't have known. And Billy, I'm sure wouldn't want us to blame ourselves. He wouldn't want a present he had been so excited about to get a negative stigma. Nor would he want this to darken the happiness we could have with getting married. He wouldn't have wanted to suck all of the light out of something he himself had been so happy about. 

I go to squeeze Jake's hand, and it's then that I realize it's no longer inside mine, and as my hand reaches for his to give him comfort and to hopefully gain some comfort of my own, his hand slips further away, across the couch from me. That feels as if someone had just delivered a blow to my stomach, but I try not to let it show. Jake needs to hear from someone that everything that he is thinking is not right. 

I decide instead to place my hand gently on his leg, turning my body to face him, catching his eye as he watches me in the periphery. "Jake..." He looks down, like he's scared or ashamed to meet my eyes. I reach over and gently tilt his face to look at me, to meet my eyes. And while mine are swimming in unshed tears, I see that his tears are trailing down his cheeks in the most heartbreaking of ways. I reach out with my thumb and try to wipe some of them away, but there are too many. "Don't do this," I say to him quietly. "We can't blame ourselves for what happened. You can't see this as your fault. It's not your fault." I knew if he believed for this to be his fault then he would never get past it.

JACOB

Everything finally fits. It’s one thing to grieve over an accident that had happened completely at random. But this… this happened as a result of my decisions, from choosing to propose, to choosing to tell Dad, to choosing when. All the tears that I’d been struggling to hold back for my sister’s sake break free in that instant of realisation, that if not for me Dad would still be alive right now. When Nessie’s hand rests on my leg, I feel myself tense. I can’t look at her right now. I can’t look at her and see the reason for all those choices. But looking down I see something that makes my heart ache even more: the engagement ring, the crimson stone resting brilliant against her pale skin. Like blood. My father’s blood.

She reaches up and turns my face to hers, gently brushing my tears away, but her touch offers little comfort now. And the same goes for her words. But of course it’s my fault. Just by denying it she makes it clear that she sees that too. I look away from her, focusing on a spot on the floor even though I can barely see it with my blurred vision. “How can you say that?” I whisper before burying my head in my hands. “How can you say that it’s not my fault when everything’s so plain for you to see?” 

I hear Rachel start to speak up, her voice a little stronger this time. “Jake… Jacob, please, you know that Dad–”

“–wouldn’t be dead if not for me,” I cut her off as I lift my head up, staring into her eyes. Before coming here, I had thought that she might get more upset about this than I was. But now I realise that no one deserves more pain from this than I do. I’m the one who shouldn’t be alive right now, not my father. “He wouldn’t be dead if I hadn’t… if I hadn’t…” The words are on the tip of my tongue, threatening to spill over. I can only just hold them back, but I know that the thought is not in my mind alone. I know that the sentence has already been finished in everyone else’s minds, Nessie’s included.

“Jake, don’t…” Rachel pleads with me, and I know that this is hurting her to see. But I can’t pretend that it’s not true, not even for her. The most I can do for her right now is get out of her sight. “I’m sorry, Rach, I…” I want to reach out and touch her, but I feel as if my touch, and I myself, can bring no good to anyone right now. I feel as though the room is closing in on me. The air in here is starting to feel so stuffy, suffocating, almost like someone’s pressing a pillow to my face. “…I’ll see you later. I’ve got to go.”

Clenching my jaw, I try to blink the tears away as I rise to my feet, feeling Nessie’s hand slide off my lap and hit the couch. And with that I stride out of the room and make for the door.

NESSIE

Everything falls apart for me. Jake's retreating even further from me. He's not finding comfort in me now. Because he sees us, our decision, and me, as the cause of his father's death. He thinks that we killed Billy. That Billy would be here right now, if not for his decision to propose to me. But I don't believe that. I don't believe that anything is that fickle, not fate, not God, nothing. Though my father believes that our souls as vampires are lost, I tend to believe my grandfather. Maybe if we do enough, there's still a chance for us. And I spend a lot of time, talking to Carlisle, the son of a preacher, about God, life, death, undeath, the after life for the living and the dead. And well, maybe it was simply Billy’s time to go. Maybe if it hadn't been in an accident on the way back from Seattle, it would have been a heart attack in the night, maybe he would have gone peacefully in his sleep. But maybe for Jake that would make all the difference. Maybe if it had been a peaceful death, or an unavoidable death it would have been easier for him to accept. 

He gets up and runs out of the house, barely saying that he has to go. He seems to not notice as my hand falls off of his lap and onto the couch, but I am more than torn apart by the loss of his touch. By the fact that he's running from me. Running from me and towards something, a reality that he is creating for himself that is cruel and unfriendly. I don't want him to get lost to this grief. I can't lose him. Especially not to something intangible. I need to find a way to help him, a way to help him out of this fog. I need to be with him. I need to find a way to get him to stop blaming himself, me, our relationship. I don't want to admit it, but I know that if he can't forgive himself, me, us, then we may not have an us for too much longer. Could our relationship survive such guilt? 

I stare blankly at the door that he just walked out of for a beat too long before wiping my eyes and looking to Rachel and Paul. I take a deep breath and rise to my feet. "I should go," I tell them quietly. I have to follow Jake. I have to be there for him. He needs someone to lean on. I'm completely aware that I may be the last person that he wants to lean on, but he has to have someone, he can't be left alone. 

"Maybe you should give him some time..." Rachel says, sounding worried. Like she's worried Jake might not be able to control himself. Like she's worried that I might get hurt. Like she knows, just like I do that Jake probably doesn't want to see me. Paul even looked like he thought it might be a bad idea. 

I shook my head. Leaving him alone, to his own devices, when he felt like this. It didn't seem right. It seemed like I would be failing him. And let's not lie. I was a little selfish. I needed him too. "I can't do that," I tried to explain, and the shock on both of their faces was evident. "He shouldn't be alone now. He needs someone. He may not want that someone to be me, but I'm not going to jump ship because things get a little tough. I love him. And he needs me. And even if he only needs me as a verbal punching bag right now, I need to be that for him. I can't leave him alone when he's hurting so deeply." Maybe I was sharing too much with them, but I just couldn't seem to stop talking, once I started, and they both just looked so thoroughly confused as to why I would chase off after a potentially hazardous wolf. 

Then I moved as quickly as I could through the door, yelling after Jake. "Jake, wait!" I called to him, catching up with him. He seemed an absolute wreck. He had only known for a few moments and it seemed to tear him down more than the original news had in a day. I reached him and wrapped my arms around him. I needed to try and comfort him somehow. I needed to try and make things more bearable for him. "Jake, look at me, please," I begged him. 

He slowly, begrudgingly raised his eyes to mine. "Nobody blames you," I said forcefully, locking my gaze with his. "I don't blame you. Rachel doesn't blame you. We don't want to watch you do this to yourself. You can't." I moved my hands to cup his face. I wasn't sure how much further I should push it. I didn't know if I should tell him that Billy must have been happy, excited even in his last moments. Or to beg him to not let this be a bad thing, to please don't let this ruin us. So I stopped talking there, waiting for his reaction.

JACOB

My chest heaves up and down like I can’t get air into it fast enough. My heart feels as though it’s demanding to break free from my ribcage. And the blood running through my veins feels as though it’s been set on fire, like it might burn its way through my flesh. I want to run. Run, and never stop running. To know that I played a part in this is tearing me to shreds and the pain is so bad, so much worse than when I first heard from Charlie, worse than when I saw the broken body. I didn’t just lose my father. I killed him. 

I feel Nessie’s arms wrap around me and I want to shrink away. Her touch almost burns. And that hurts too, the fact that I could ever not want her to touch me. It almost hurts more than the guilt. I’ve never felt this way, not when it comes to her, not when I love her so much I would give up anything for her. But how could I love her so much to the point of sacrificing my father’s life? She begs me to look at her and it’s so hard. It’s so hard to drag my eyes up from the ground to look into hers and see what I’ve done.

“Blame?” I echo disbelievingly, my voice sounding harsher than I thought it would. “This isn’t about blame, Nessie. This is about what really happened last night. Or did you not see what his face looked like under that sheet?” As if anyone standing there could’ve missed it. As if either of us could ever forget. “I did that to him,” I shout at her before wrenching her hands off my face and holding her wrist up so that the ring is just inches away from her eyes. The ring that I’d picked out just for her which had sealed my father’s fate. “And this – this did that to him.”

I stare at her for a long hard moment, hardly even seeing her. It’s a dead face that I’m seeing. But then the look on her face snaps me out of it and I begin to realise with horror what I’m doing, how loudly I was shouting at her and how tightly I’m gripping her wrist. I release her hand immediately and take a staggering step back, away from her. Never in all our years together as friends, as lovers, as imprints, have I ever been this harsh with her. And yet now… now I can hardly control my emotions because I never once thought for a moment that what we are, what we’ve always been to each other would lead us down this road. 

NESSIE

His eyes pull up very slowly to look into mine. And his eyes are so pained, almost hollow, like he's looking, but not seeing. When he hears my words, he snaps, he grabs my wrists so hard I can feel the bones grinding against each other. I wince slightly as he yells in my face. His words and their implications hurt almost more than the physical pain that he is inflicting on me. 

The ring. I can barely avoid looking at it. And it takes every ounce of strength I have not to break down and cry about what he says about it. It takes everything I have to fight the internal battle that I struggle with to not see the ring the same way that he does. As a curse. As a reason for a death. Instead of as a blessing. And a reason to live for. The ring should be a symbol of our togetherness, not of our falling apart. Not of his father's death. And I won't let him taint the ring for me. I won't. I know we didn't kill his dad. It was late, it was dark, the road was slick. Maybe he shouldn't have gone, maybe it would have been better if he wasn't so excited about what was in Seattle. But it was not our fault. It was not the fault of our relationship. I struggled to not give in to Jake and see it that way as his eyes continued to stare through me instead of seeing me. 

When he released my wrists, I wanted to slap him, to scream at him, to tell him he was being a stupid, insensitive jerk. I wanted to force him to snap out of this. But he was upset. He was saying all of this out of pain. He wouldn't mean it when he could see and think clearly. He would feel horrible later. I had to be kind. Forgiving. I had to be lenient. I had to let these things slide. I had to accept it. I had to take it. Or else when he started to heal, there would be no us for him to come back to. And while he was healing, he would need us. He would need me. And truthfully, I couldn't leave him now, when he was so visibly in pain, no matter how horribly he treated me. 

I raised my hands to wipe away the few tears that had escaped, ignoring the bruises that were already forming on my wrists. And then I looked at him, strength and compassion in my eyes. "Of course I saw him," I say as calmly as I can. "What happened to him was horrible, Jake. It really was. I would give anything to bring him back. Back here. Back to you. Anything. If I could make this any different, or any better, I would. In a heartbeat. But I can't...I can't change anything that happened. And neither can you. So the best we can do is try to accept it. And stop assigning blame where it isn't due. You didn't kill your dad. It was late, it was dark, the roads were wet. It was an accident. A horrible, badly timed accident." 

I held up the ring and forced him to look at it. "This--This is not a weapon."

JACOB

Tears. I see the tears spilling forth from her eyes, tears that I’ve always, always wanted to be there to wipe away. Yet here I am, the cause of them, and I can’t find it in me to move. To apologise. To take it all back. How can I take it all back when I meant every word I just said? Our love was the cause of this tragedy. The one thing that I’ve always believed in, the one thing that I’ve always regarded as the most pure and perfect thing in my life, the very reason for my existence… had it always been set to betray me in the end?

I want to walk away. Walk, run, before I say or do anything more. But when she speaks, the firmness in her voice forces me to listen. “…I would give anything to bring him back. Back here. Back to you. Anything. If I could make this any different, or any better, I would. In a heartbeat. But I can't...” I force my eyes shut to keep my own tears from escaping. For a moment that is all it really is. Grief. Grief, and the desire to bring him back. Nothing else would matter, if I could just bring him back. But then she says to accept it, to accept that it was an accident. And it goes back to being more than just a sense of loss, to becoming a sense of self-loathing.

“An accident,” I repeat after her through clenched teeth, nodding my head. “Oh yeah, it was an accident all right. An accident that never had to happen. An accident that wouldn’t have happened if not for my decisions.” When has he ever travelled back from out of town that late? She’s wrong. I may not be able to change it, but that doesn’t for a moment delete the fact that I’m the one who put him on those wet roads late at night in the first place. It didn’t have to be this way. 

I wince when she holds the ring up. The moment my eyes fall on it, the inner turmoil builds up again. I love her. I could never regret loving her. When I slipped that ring onto her finger, it was because it represented everything good and beautiful in my life, in ours. It was because I wanted more of what was meant to be, because I was ready to embark with her on that journey towards the future that was always written for us. But I can’t look at that ring now without seeing blood. 

She says it’s not a weapon, but it is. It is. 

“It is.”

The emotions are threatening to boil to the surface. It’s too close, and so is she, and I can’t fight off the anguish that’s ripping through my soul as I look at them both. I take another step back, and another. I can’t do this. I can’t. I swallow hard and shift my gaze away from her. “Nessie, maybe you should… maybe you should go home.”


	15. A Light in the Darkness

NESSIE

Jake said that maybe I should leave. And my world collapsed. He’d never asked me to go away. He's always said that he should leave if he couldn't handle something. Or if we were fighting to the point that he needed a breather so as not to phase near me. It was always worded where he implied he should leave. He has never sent me away before. He’s never demanded I should leave. I, however, held my ground. I refused to abandon him. I didn't know what he might do if he was alone. I didn't want him to hurt himself in anyway, if he even could, since he did heal. But we knew from his previous injuries that he could deny the healing process if he wanted to, or maybe it was just if he was broken enough. But either way, I couldn't trust in his ability to heal right now. So I stayed that day. I stayed and drove us both home in the truck. And he's barely spoken to me since. 

It's been three days. Three days that I've slept on the couch. Three days that he's said nothing worth repeating, nothing kind to me. It's been three long days. And a place that I had once thought could easily be my second home. A place I always felt so welcomed in. Now it felt cold, unkind, foreign. Like I no longer belonged. Like the house was simply too small for the two of us. When before it had seemed nice and cozy, now we were feeling crowded, overwhelmed. We were suffocating. 

The sun woke me up every morning. Jake needed curtains, but he refused to let me change anything, even the slightest thing. So the sun woke me up this morning too. And I went and grabbed the dress that Alice had brought the previous day. The treaty lately had been relaxed, so that I could see my family and stay with Jake, but the Cullens were the only ones allowed. No other vampires could cross safely into La Push. Jake was already awake, if he had slept at all. I wanted to ask how he was, how he had slept, but it had gotten to the point that I avoided asking him anything because he almost always snapped. I didn't know what to say to him anymore that wouldn't warrant some sort of anger from him, so I tended to keep silent. I got ready in the bathroom. And I could hear him rustling around in his room. Getting ready. 

When I was done, I stepped into his room. A place I hadn't even dared to go since the night we made love. And I crossed the floor to find him struggling with his tie. It was a scene I had seen a few times before. Whenever he would go anywhere with my family, whenever he took me out somewhere fancy where he thought he should dress up. I had always wondered if he really didn't know how, or if he just liked the excuse to get me alone, close to him, to have a quick, hushed secret conversation. I guess he never could. Or maybe he couldn't now because of the grief, I told myself, trying not to lose the romance and magic of my before beliefs. 

Instinctively I moved over to him and started tying his tie, and with something else to work on, I got distracted and began talking, not thinking about what I was doing. "You going to be able to handle today?" I asked him quietly, "No one would think any less of you if you thought you couldn't speak today..." I knew it would be hard for him. I was worried about him. Worried he was pushing himself too far. Worried it would be harder than he thought. Worried he wouldn't be able to do this. "I'll be right there if you need me," I said to him for probably the millionth time. I had promised him this over and over again, so many times, the words seemed to have lost their meaning, especially since, since that day, he hadn't admitted to needing me for anything. I was done tying his tie, and I straightened it before patting the knot, and looking at him, automatically saying what I usually say when finished tying his tie, "Handsome as ever." And usually he would kiss me after. But I knew that wouldn't happen today. 

In fact, one look at his face and I found myself taking a step away from him.

JACOB

I stare into the mirror as I button up my shirt. Seeing the hollow expression and the shadows beneath my eyes, it hardly registers that it’s me that I’m looking at. Where the last three days have gone, I have no idea, even though time seemed to move so slowly for me in that period. Like if I focused hard enough, I might be able to get it to stop, to rewind to before that night, before the crash. Late at night when it was dark and I was alone, I’d even tried to stop breathing for just a while, to see if that could happen. But it never worked. Maybe I just hadn’t tried hard enough.

As I loop the tie around my neck, the image staring back at me just makes me more frustrated. I wonder why I’m even bothering to dress up like this, when this is about being close to my father for the last time, and it just makes me feel all the more detached because I’ve never had to be like this around Dad before. Except maybe a handful of times when he would laugh at me and ask if I was going to church. The memories stab me in the heart. I grunt furiously, tugging at the stupid tie trying to figure out which end’s which. Damn this.

And then I hear Nessie walk into the room, her steps so silent that I wouldn’t have noticed if not for the already looming tension permeating the air around us. I don’t know why she’s staying, why she didn’t leave that day when I said that she should, why she’s sticking around when I can barely stand to look at her. Like right now that she’s working on my tie for me as if I’m an incompetent fool. "You going to be able to handle today?" she asks. I hear the concern evident in her tone, and yet that hurts even more. To hear the love in her voice when all it reminds me of is just that, our love, my love for her, and what it did to my father.

She tells me that she’ll be right there for me if I need her and ordinarily, I would have loved to hear that. If my dad had died of a heart attack or old age, I would have loved to know that I had her close. Why wouldn’t I, when her presence has always meant the world? But today I draw little comfort from her words. In fact I wish she just hadn’t said it to begin with. As it is, it’s like she’s always there, like she’s intent on making me see every single moment of the day the one thing that led to all of this. 

"Handsome as ever," she says softly. The words that I would’ve smiled at days before, and responded to by pulling her in for a hug and a kiss, now make me feel almost repulsed. As if she’s mocking me on the day that we’re going to stick my father under mounds of dirt. I can’t help the scowl that comes to my face.

“It’s a funeral, not a wedding,” I snap at her attempt at lightheartedness. And my own choice of words only serves to make things worse. Because it’s the wedding that we were planning on having that’s the reason for having to attend this funeral in the first place. I turn away from her and grab my jacket and keys. Nessie drove us around in the first two days, but I got back into the driver’s side because I’d rather not sit in awkward silence anymore with nothing to occupy myself with. At least focusing on the road takes my attention off of her. “I’ll wait in the car,” I mutter as I stride out of the room and head outside.

NESSIE

He says that it's a funeral and not a wedding and all I can do is frown. Does he really not think that I know that? Does he really think that I'm going to this funeral with a light heart and a spring in my step? Does he really think that I'm looking forward to making it all final? To saying a final goodbye to Billy? Does he think that I'm truly excited to put his father, my own family into the ground? And then it's all summed up for me. Does he really believe me to be that heartless? Is that how he sees me now? Does he see me as this heartless woman who took his father and is then trying to dance down the aisle at his funeral? 

I want to tell him that I know that it's a somber time. I know that it's his father's funeral. I know. But does that mean that we can't love each other? Does that mean that I can't support him? Does that mean that I can't look to Jake for any comfort either because I miss Billy too? Does this mean that I can't try and make him feel better? Do we just have to frown and cry? We can't smile and laugh? We can't celebrate Billy's memory at all? We have to simply mourn it? 

I just have to keep reminding myself that he's in pain. That he doesn't mean it. He’s lashing out because he's hurt and confused. He still loves me. He still wants me around. He'll want to know that you never left his side when he comes around again. He will. But it's getting harder to convince myself of that. If it weren't for the evident pain in his eyes, I'd start to believe that I was lying to myself. 

I let my shoulders shake as I took a few moments to mourn my losses before facing everyone else and being strong for Rachel and Jake. And to mourn the loss of my Jake, the Jake I always knew, for this bitter Jake. And then I wipe the tears away from my eyes. My eyes stay fixed for a moment on the bruises on my wrists. And a few more silent tears escape my eyes before I wipe them away fiercely and throw on my coat to hide the evidence of Jake's roughness. My family didn't need to know. And neither did the pack. He didn't need an intervention, he needed understanding and support. 

Then I quickly walk out of the room, flipping off the light as I went. And then just as quickly through the whole house and outside into the sunshine. I move over to the truck and get into the passenger seat. I don't like sitting here, stuck in the silence, feeling like there's a wall between me and Jake. What should I say? "I love you, Jake," I tell him quietly. "I know we're going to a funeral. And I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings in there. I didn't mean to be cruel or insensitive. I'm sorry. About everything."

JACOB

I start up the engine as soon as she gets in, determined to get there, get through the day, and get back. It’s all we’ve been doing over the last few days. Going through the motions. Existing without living. Because I don’t know how else to go about this. I don’t know how to live this way. It’s like a piece of me is dead too. In this moment, I feel lost and drained and tired, and when Nessie gets in and apologises, my heart softens slightly. She sounds timid, trying to consider my feelings. And I should know that it’s not her fault, that all she’s been doing is to try to make things less difficult to bear.

But then my hands fingers on the steering wheel. I can feel myself slipping, falling, losing my grip, and I refuse to go down again. I can’t, especially not today. “Forget it,” I mumble as I start driving, my eyes fixed on the road ahead as I make it clear that I have nothing more to say on the matter.

When we finally get there, I take a moment to breathe before getting out of the car. We’re going to say goodbye. For real this time. And everyone will be there, so that there will be no denying what happened anymore. Shutting the ignition off, I force myself to get out and meet the mourners. I’m going to have to see the sympathetic looks in their eyes. Hear a few dozen more ‘I’m sorry’s. I wish I’ll never have to hear those words like that again.

As we approach, I see Rachel already there, along with most of the pack. To them Dad was just like family, not just because I’m like their brother, but also because he always looked out for them, and vice versa. But the moment my eyes come to rest on the coffin, they all might as well have disappeared. The body that lies in that coffin is not what everyone else imagines it to be. I swallow hard, glad that they never had to see it, but choking back on my own grief as I try to picture my father as he was when he was alive. I try, so hard, but the image refuses to come.

NESSIE

He says to forget it. And I can tell that he's trying. He's trying to be kind. He's trying to show some feeling. Some compassion. He's just so lost that he can't really find a way to say it, or do it without being a little cold. And I can forgive him for that. If it were my dad, I'm not sure right now I'd have kind words for anyone else either. He then turns his eyes on the road and focuses on it. Focuses too hard. And I know that we're done. No more talking. Nothing. He can't handle it, or he doesn't want to hear it, but the reasons don't matter. I can respect his wishes. I just wish that he wished for me. 

I look through the windshield, straight out into the street, watching the houses and trees as they pass and we make it to the burial grounds. I'm glad to see that people are already here, that I didn't have to stand in more awkward silence with Jake waiting for some relief from someone else. And Rachel's here. She's starting to look more composed, like she will get through this after all. And for a moment I felt jealous of Paul. I would give anything to see that look on Jake's face, but instead he seems to look more and more dark. More lost. 

His eyes fix on the coffin and I know what he's seeing. He's seeing what his father looked like under that sheet. I know he is. And I wish he wouldn't. I wish he could remember Billy like the rest of us do, smiling, light, and carefree. But he can't. He can't stop seeing his father's mangled body when he thinks about him. And that kills me. I take his hand into mine and give it a squeeze. A squeeze that says that I am right here. That I love him. That I support him. 

Rachel spots me and she gives me a small smile. "Nessie," she says, coming over to hug me. "Thanks for helping us make all of the arrangements. Though I'm sure Jake's thanked you a million times." I'm not sure if she's been so out of it that she hasn't seen the distance between Jake and I, or if she's in denial, or thinking that that's only around them when he's trying to be strong. But either way, I don't have the heart to tell her. And today is not the day to whine about the chasm between us. 

I nod and say quietly. "Of course." I wouldn't have had it any other way. I wouldn't have done any less for the Black family. I wrap my free arm around her in a hug. My jacket sleeve riding up slightly as I do. I notice Paul narrow his eyes, so I yank my arm away from Rachel right away, letting the sleeve slide back down. And I try not to think at all about the bruise on my arm as I see all of the wolves tense, signaling the arrival of my family.

JACOB

Her hand squeezes mine. A torrent of mixed feelings lashes through me. I can feel what she’s trying to tell me. She’s trying to tell me that she loves me. But I don’t know how to tell her I feel the same, not when our love now carries on its back the dark force that stripped the life out of my father. Who is in that coffin. Whose broken body is in that coffin. I don’t know how, so my hand stays limp in hers, until she lets go of it to return Rachel’s hug. I hear her speaking to Nessie, and then vaguely the mention of my name, but I barely hear the words being exchanged between them.

I only look up when I realise that the Cullens are approaching. The others have tensed up, because despite the treaty having been relaxed, this is still our territory. But I know they won’t do anything rash today, out of respect for my father. As soon as she comes into view, Bella locks eyes with me. Or at least she tries. I just give her a brief nod to acknowledge her arrival, and then turn away. “I’m going to see what else needs to be set up,” I mutter to Nessie, leaving her to be with her family.

NESSIE

He tells me that he's going to go see if anything else needs to be set up, but I know that he's just looking for a way to get away from me. Away from my hand wrapped around his. Away from the love that I am showing him. And it breaks my heart to watch him pull away from me again. "Okay," I say, feeling hollow as he walks away. I can't meet the eyes of anyone in the pack, since they’re watching either me or Jake like they don't understand. Like they're watching an impossible magic trick. And I don't want to deal with the questions, so I am grateful when my father wraps his arms around me. 

"How are you holding up?" he whispers to me and I can't stop myself from hugging him back, from falling into his arms, from crying against his shoulder. I can't tell him the truth. I can't tell him that it's awful. I can't say that it might just be too much for even magic to fix. I can't say, because I can't admit it to myself, that Jake might not love me anymore. And all of these things I keep out of my head. Because none of that matters until he's back to normal. What matters is that I love him. 

"It's harder than I thought it would be," I whisper back, knowing that in this crowd, it is impossible to have a private conversation. "But I love him." I cry even harder as I think again that he might hate me. 

"He doesn't hate you," my father soothes. And for the first time, ever, I doubt him. I know he can hear what's in Jake's head, but would he lie to me to make me feel better? I hope that this whole thing wouldn't change my relationship with my father. 

"You don't see him, you don't hear how he talks to me," I protest weakly. My dad doesn't have anything else to say to that. He just holds me while I cry, about so many things, I don't even know which I'm more sad about. And I stay there. I let him and my mother and the rest of my family caress my cheeks and back with their cool hands, run their fingers through my hair. I let them tell me that it'll get better, soon we'll start putting the pieces back together. I let them tell me that Jake doesn't hate me, he just doesn't know how to express things right now. I let them tell me that everything will be okay. But eventually I have to pull away from the warmth and comfort that they offer and move to sit between Jake and Paul. I take Jake's warm hand into mine as the funeral begins, but I feel no warmth. Everything with Jake is cold now. 

I look over my shoulder at my family. Longing for their warmth. I want to stand up and run back to them and ask them to let me come home please. That I will never take them for granted again. That I will never take anyone's love for granted again. I had always assumed that Jake could never not love me, but apparently he can hate me. I turn back to the front, tears in my eyes, not wanting to appear rude. I try to listen to what is being said, but it's too hard, it's too hard to focus to really hear this final goodbye. 

I’m caught off guard when Paul reaches over and takes my hand in the one that isn't wrapped around Rachel. And I feel the warmth again. The pack is family. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, but he refuses to acknowledge his actions in anyway. So I stare ahead again, lost in my own thoughts until I hear Jake’s name. 

Then my attention turns to Jake. My eyes silently ask if he's really okay to do this as he rises from his chair and I give his hand one last squeeze.

JACOB

I know what she’s asking me. She wants to know if I can really go through with this. And the truth is that I don’t know. In all honesty, I haven’t actually spoken much about my father since he died. I’ve been dreading this moment. Not because I have no good things to say about my father, but because I have too many. I give her a pained look before slipping my hand out of hers.

The air is tense, awkward. They’re looking at me expectantly, and I try to muster up the strength to do this for my dad, but it feels as though every good memory I have of him seems to be tainted. I hadn’t prepared anything, knowing that nothing could possibly do him justice. I want to say something that he wouldn’t have groaned and laughed at, but I find that everything I want to say about him is the epitome of the classic cliché. Because these are the ways I want him to be remembered. 

I start to speak, trying hard to keep my voice clear the whole time. I talk about how he always taught me to love life, and except at this point all it does is make me feel like a hypocrite because I don’t know how to love life right now, when it’s so cold and empty. I’m speaking about him in the past tense, and that only serves to make this even harder, even more painful. Because after today, the rest of the world will be moving ahead, into the future, while my father will always remain in the past. 

I’ve barely spoken for three minutes when I feel myself starting to crack. I rub the bridge of my nose and have to clear my throat several times, but I still can’t help but feel as if my chest is getting clogged up. “Billy Black was many things.” I draw a deep breath before continuing, but now my voice no longer sounds the same. “H-he was a leader, he was a friend… a-and he was like a father to many. But to me…” It’s then that I feel the dam break, and what I say next, I’m not even sure if anyone can make out. “…to me, Billy was Dad.”

And it’s like everyone else is not even there anymore. It’s just me, alone, swimming in this ocean of sorrow. I start to back away and stumble slightly, covering a hand over my eyes as the sobs rack my shoulders.

NESSIE

I watch as Jake cracks and then breaks. He first looks slumped over, defeated, and then the dam breaks, the tears flow freely. He's not steady on his own two feet. He seems to lose almost all control. And I can't resist the urge to be near him. I move as quickly as my dress will allow from my chair to where Jake is standing. My arms wrap around him tightly, trying to shield him from everything. The pain. The reality. What's inside the coffin. The eyes that are staring at him, watching him not be at his finest. I try to soothe him as best I can, not caring who's watching as I stroke his hair and wipe away his tears and whisper every single comforting word I can think of. But I can't make him move. That’s when Quil rushes up and takes Jake with him, forcibly moving him from the spot and back to his chair, Quil sitting in my spot, trying to comfort Jake. And I find myself standing in front of the crowd. Alone. And I know Jake would want something to be said about his dad before he's lowered into the ground, so I stay there. 

"Ummm..." I begin, "Hi." I give a small nervous wave and clear my throat subconsciously, my voice still unsure as I continue. "For those of you who don't know me, I'm Renesmee Cullen, Jake's fiancée." But everyone here knew me. And after Rebecca saw one of the guys phase, everyone knew our secrets. I sigh and mutter to myself. "Get it together, this isn't a speech to be class president." I hear chuckles in the crowd from those who could hear me and I blush slightly. "I wasn't planning on doing this, so if you'll just give me a second." 

I take a deep breath and give myself a pep talk in my head before closing my eyes and praying to get this right. When I open my eyes, everyone's still staring at me. Okay, here goes nothing. "I'm sure you're thinking that there's nothing that I can tell you about Billy that you don't already know. And you're probably right. So I'm not even going to try. Today, I'm just gonna share with you pieces of Billy as I knew him." 

Okay, you haven't lost them yet, so keep going. Just keep going. "From early on Billy proved to me that he had the biggest heart of anyone I would ever know. Even when I was an infant, I admired that. And I hoped that one day I would have that. He accepted everyone. And he accepted all of them. Not just the parts he wanted. Or the parts that pleased him. He took us all as we came. You're not a big talker. That’s okay. You have anger issues and phase whenever anyone so much as looks at you wrong. Come on in. You have two vampires for parents and enjoy blood as much as you do food. Be my daughter." I shifted from one foot to the other. "And those of us he accepted, he loved. He loved us like family. He loved us all unconditionally. And that I think we all wish we could learn from Billy." 

Remember to breath. "And no one was around Billy without feeling the calm in his presence. His smile, his warmth, his voice. It put people at ease. Or it at least put me at ease. This I know he's passed on to his son and daughters. You could always count on Billy to help you feel better after tragedy. Whether the tragedy, be it the passing of a loved one, or the failing of a test at school, or getting caught lying to your parents. Although my parents do have an unfair advantage." There were a few laughs in the crowd. The loudest from dad. "He never accused. He never blamed. He never asked why did you do that? He never made you feel bad about your choices because when you didn't make the right ones, he seemed to understand that you thought it was the best decision at the time. He wasn't one to condemn. He talked, he listened, he taught. He never judged. And that made the place he was always safe. Safe for anything." 

I looked down at Jake. "And like Jake said, he always loved life. He was always smiling, laughing, making jokes. He was vibrant. He never let the light flicker or fade. And all he wanted, ever, was to share it with people. Those he knew and those he didn't. He created a warmth inside everyone who crossed his path. And he inspired them to live life to its fullest. To be vibrant. To shine their light. And to share it with others. And I admired that he never let adversity get in his way. He always met it head on. And he usually overcame it. And when he couldn't see a way, we tried to help him." 

"The last time that I talked to Billy, he told me that I couldn't be a little girl forever. He said it was time to be brave. To step up. To love selflessly. To take the good with the bad. He told me that there would be days when I would have to be stronger than I even knew how. And then he said that he couldn't wait for the day when I would truly be family. And then we danced." More laughter as people tried to envision us dancing. "And I'm glad we did, since we won't have the chance to have our dance now." 

I feel tears making their way down my cheeks. "Everything truly important that we learned. We learned from Billy. We learned from the best of him. I learned from the best of him. We accept. We love. We don't turn our backs on our family. We smile and laugh. We live life to the fullest. We shine our light. And we let others shine theirs. We do not shrink away from conflict. And we grew up." It seemed only suiting to say, since one of our last conversations, that was basically what he told me I would have to do, grow up. "And for that we should thank him." 

I felt a little awkward now that I'd spoken, hoping that I'd said something worthy of Billy and I was out of words now. "Thank you," I said to the coffin, and then to everyone else before going back to sit with Jake, as Quil went back to Claire.

JACOB

I feel her arms around me as I shatter completely, before everyone’s eyes. I hear her voice whispering into my ear, softly, gently. And at first I just want to stay there, like this, this way, with her. Without a care about anything else. But then I feel her arms slip away, her touch replaced by someone else’s, one of my brothers, though at the time I just can’t tell which. Then he leads me back to my seat, where I sink back down, head bent and shoulders slumped, tears still flowing relentlessly. I realise that it’s Quil that’s beside me, his hand tapping my back. “You did good, Jake. You did good,” he says, even though I did horribly. He doesn’t mention my dad, probably because he doesn’t want to trigger more heartache. But it makes no difference, since that’s all that’s in the air today. Dad and his death.

But slowly, the fog begins to clear and I’m sitting there realising that Nessie’s taken my place up there. I try to shake myself out of it and start to listen to what she’s saying. She’s talking about how he was loving, how she was like a daughter to him. About how he never judged. About how he was always brought warmth to those around him. Everything she says about my father is everything I couldn’t bring myself to say, only she says it all so clearly, with so much passion and conviction, that you can’t possibly look away. She makes it obvious that she believes every word, and that she wants him to be remembered that way. When she throws a glance my way, I realise that those words are at least in part meant for me. She wants me to remember Dad as he really was in life, not as that broken corpse. And I listen. Isn’t this why I didn’t want anyone else to see his body in the first place? Because I didn’t want that to be the way he was remembered?

“…then he said that he couldn't wait for the day when I would truly be family. And then we danced.” Danced? This was something that I didn’t know of. A private moment that neither of them had mentioned to me. And it occurs to me then how Dad would never want to resent Nessie, would never approve of the way I’ve been feeling about her and how I’ve been relating her to all of this. Dad had loved her like a daughter. And he’d been thrilled to finally get to invite her into our family. These thoughts linger in my mind even as I struggle to keep my emotions at bay, as I listen to the rest of what Nessie has to say, and as she comes back to sit beside me, taking Quil’s place. And when she does, when I turn to look at her and take her hand, for a moment it feels right again, the way our love was always meant to be. Not ugly and tainted with guilt, death. But warm and comforting, and it’s a feeling that I realise, deep down, I’ve been missing, craving over the last three days.

NESSIE

When I sit down next to Jake and glance over at him, I see that he's looking at me. Really looking at me. Like he actually sees me. And my heart soars. Because for now at least, his eyes aren’t hollow, vacant, angry, or resentful. He's seeing me. And for the first time in the last few days, but what feels like weeks, he likes what he sees. And he takes my hand in his, and he holds my hand. 

I can't help but smile as I pull his hand over to my lap, holding it in both of mine tightly. Dad was right. The fog did clear. Jake has returned to me. He doesn't hate me. I lean in and rest my forehead against his and bask in how everything feels right again, how things between Jake and I are right. "I love you," I whisper to him. I bite my bottom lip before adding. "I missed you." I realize then that I had almost started to miss him like I missed Billy. I was almost starting to see Jake as something I had lost, but couldn't give up on. 

I lean forward and press my lips to his lightly, needing to really believe that he wasn't resentful of me anymore. Needing that so badly. "How're you doing?" And maybe it's not good etiquette to talk right now. But I knew Billy would forgive me. And it just felt so good to have him like this again, I couldn't stop myself from talking to him.

JACOB

I close my eyes as I feel her forehead rest against mine. And sadness, in that moment, no matter how profound, seems like it might be bearable after all. We couldn’t have stopped it, couldn’t have seen it coming. My dad may be dead but… that doesn’t mean that we have to be. As I feel her lips touch mine, I realise how the last few days seem like they’ve been lost to me. Like I was absent the whole time, like there’s a three-day chunk of my life that’s missing.

“I’m… I’m okay,” I say quietly. I don’t really believe, that I’m really okay. But for the first time since all this started, I believe that I will be. In time. And it helps to know that, that I don’t have to be stuck in this hollow rut forever. I lift my other hand to rest against the back of her neck and pull her closer again, to return the soft kiss that she just gave me. “Love you too…”

My other hand moves over to cover hers, and that’s when I notice something. The discoloured markings just barely sticking out beneath the sleeve of her black jacket. I pull the sleeve up and my breath catches in my throat. All at once, I recall how she got those bruises, how I held her hand up and shook the ring in front of her eyes. Gently, I lift her hand up and press my lips to her wrist as the tears slide down my face. 

NESSIE

He says that he's okay. Not in a way that implies that right at this moment he is truly okay, but in a way where for the first time since we got this news, I believe that he will be okay. I can't tear my eyes away from his, afraid to even blink. Right now he's looking at me, holding eye contact. I don't want to lose that. I don't want to close my eyes not even for a second and see that everything's back to the way that it was. That nothing has really changed. To see the loathing in his eyes again. But for now, as he kisses me again, everything feels right, perfect again. And I can't help but give him a small smile and to say again. "I'm here for you. We'll get through this. Together." 

And when he says that he loves me, my heart soars, I feel so much lighter. Until he notices the bruises on my wrists. And then he seems to remember how they got there. And his eyes cloud over. He's upset with himself. He raises my wrist to his lips and kisses it gently. I know that he's sorry. I know that he'll have trouble forgiving himself for this, but I've already forgiven him. It's a struggle to make eye contact with him, this time because he's ashamed, but I want him to hear me. "It's okay," I tell him gently, "You were upset. You didn't mean to."

JACOB

She tries to make excuses for me, as if anything could justify it. I look at the bruises and then back at her, shaking my head slightly. “It’s not okay,” I whisper sadly, sighing as I lower our hands again. It’s not okay to hurt her. It could never be okay. I wonder if she should really be around me like this. Not because I don’t want her around, but because of what I could do to her. Judging by what I’ve already done. But one look at her and I know I couldn’t have made her leave if I tried.

After really, truly saying goodbye to my dad, the rest of the day goes by in a daze. At some point, Charlie comes over and tells me that there’s something from the wreckage that was salvaged that I could go and pick up at any time. I’m not sure if I want to, to see another broken piece of my father’s legacy, but I know that I have to or I’ll always wonder. But not today. I’m too drained and exhausted to do it today. 

Somehow we manage to linger, exchanging a few words with the others. Somehow I manage to get us back to my place. And then somehow we both end up lying in bed together, just finding solace in each other’s company. She falls asleep after a while, while I lay awake for most of the night, as I’ve done for the last few nights. So many thoughts go through my mind, so many thoughts and memories and images that I can’t piece together, that contradict each other. I try not to pay attention to them, to focus instead on watching her even breathing, the peaceful half-smile lingering on her lips even in her slumber.

And then morning comes, and I can’t lie still anymore. I need to get up and do something, to get myself moving and my mind working. I decide that I need to go and pick up whatever it is that Charlie was talking about, to get that out of the way and maybe after that I might be able to begin moving on. Careful not to jolt the bed so as not to wake Nessie, I lift myself off the bed and start to get ready.


	16. One Last Present

NESSIE

He tries to get out of bed soundlessly, but I feel his absence almost immediately. The coolness of the sheets embraces me now instead of his warmth. And his scent isn't as strong. And every time he gets up I just sense him moving away from me. And after the past few days, I feel panic rise in my chest, knowing that he's moving away. After the last few days I can't risk him leaving me again, even if only mentally and emotionally. I can't bear to lose our bond again. 

I begin to slowly pull myself up, out of sleep. My eyes blink open. They blink multiple times, trying to adjust to the light and frantically searching the room for his bronzed skin. When I find him, I try to relax and smile. "Morning," I say to him, raising myself up on my elbows, hoping that things aren't like they were before, that things are still right between us, like they should be. "What're you getting ready for?"

JACOB

I turn from the closet to see her looking at me with a smile that looks hesitant and sleepy at the same time. “Morning,” I reply, trying to smile too, though it doesn’t quite come out as well. I wonder if I ever will again, but things will get better. They have to. Right? “Charlie said yesterday that there’s something for me to pick up from the station. I thought I’d just go do that.” 

I see the look on her face, like she’s wondering if this is a good idea, to do this now. To open up the wounds again. Would it be better to just let the past stay in the past, to put it away and just not think about it anymore? What good could anything from the wreckage do now? Of course those thoughts occur to me, but I’ve got to do this if only to put it behind me once and for all.

“I won’t be long,” I assure her lightly. “You can go back to bed, catch up on some rest.”

NESSIE

"No, no, I'm awake," I say, my voice sounding groggy even to me, as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Truth be told, now that I had Jake back to normal, or as normal as he could be given the tragedy, I didn't really want to let him out of my sight. I was afraid that if I wasn't with him, he might go back to thinking the way that he had before. And I didn't know if I could handle dealing with that distance again. With his anger or cruelty. 

I plant my feet on the ground and rise out of bed slowly moving across the floor to stand behind him where he was facing his dresser getting ready. I wrap my arms around him from behind, pulling his back against my chest. My arms snaking up his chest, to his shoulders, holding him close, placing a kiss between his shoulder blades. "I'll go with you," I tell him. Then I worry that maybe I'm pushing too hard. I mean we used to sometimes spend torturous weeks at a time away from each other and it never changed anything. If anything, those absences only served to bring us closer together. Maybe I should sleep like my body was begging me to, and I should let him go, I should trust that things were right. So I tack on an, "Okay?" waiting for his response before I begin to get ready.

JACOB

I stop what I’m doing when I feel her behind me, her arms drawing me against her. And somehow that feels good to me. After four days of almost recoiling every time she touched me, this was a pleasant change. The guilt hasn’t left me, it’s still right there in my heart, every time I give myself a moment to think. But it’s not here, not like this, in her touch. She tells me that she’ll come with me, and then asks a little more hesitantly, almost as if she’s afraid of me, if it’s okay. I close my eyes and lean my cheek into her hand resting on my shoulder, reaching back with my own hand to caress hers. I savour the moment, savour the way our relationship feels just like it used to be. Right. And good. And pure.

“Okay,” I reply quietly, giving a small nod before, for some reason, I repeat myself. “Okay.” As we both get on to getting dressed and ready, I watch her out of the corner of my eye. Even though she’s insisting on coming, I can tell that she does seem tired. That, and on top of that the fact that neither of us have been eating right over the last few days. “Are you hungry? We can grab something to eat first if you want. There’s no rush.” After all, whatever it is that’s at the station isn’t going anywhere.

NESSIE

He welcomed my touch, he even returned it, and I felt at ease for what felt like the first time in ages. I felt at peace, things with Jake and I are okay. They'll be okay. We will get through this. I closed my eyes, relishing in his touch for a moment before slowly sliding away from him and beginning to get ready. Then he mentioned food. And I realized that we hadn't been eating right, and that I was starving. Something I hadn't noticed before now. Something I'd been too worried and tense to notice the last few days. 

"Sure," I gave him a small smile. "I'm actually kind of starving. I didn't really realize it until you said something." I admit to him and we share a small laugh, as he agrees that he's starving too. And so we decide to go to a diner on the border between here and Forks for some breakfast before continuing on to the police station. Breakfast went well. We talked almost the whole time. About nothing. About everything. Just as if nothing had come between us. And we both got caught up in some stories and some memories, laughing and smiling when we talked about Billy and some times in the past. 

We got into the truck again and I asked him curiously. "So what do you think it is? At the station?" As we ride, I scoot closer to him, sitting next to him instead of all the way across the bench seat.

JACOB

After breakfast, I almost change my mind. I almost decide that I don’t want to do this after all and turn around. Would it help at all? What else did I need of my father’s, if I had his memories, like those Nessie and I just shared? Now that I’m finally starting to feel like I might be able to pick up the pieces again, I’m afraid of seeing whatever it is. Afraid of being transported back to the night of the crash and seeing it all happen again. That won’t happen, I tell myself. It won’t happen now. It’s over.

I give a shrug in response to Nessie’s question. My guess is as good as hers. Charlie just mentioned there was something, but he didn’t say what the something was. “I really have no idea,” I reply, glancing over at her briefly. “But I just feel like… I want to get this over with, you know? Whatever it is.” Just get it over with and move on from this tragedy.

Upon arriving at the station, I pull into a parking spot and hop out of the truck. And go over to her side. And take her hand in mine. I’m glad she decided to come with me today.

NESSIE

He comes over and offers his hand to help me out of the truck. As soon as my feet hit the ground, I think about his words. The words that he just wants to get this over with. Should that be what this is? A chore to complete as quickly as possible? Shouldn't whatever Billy left behind mean more than that? Be treated like more than that? Though I have to admit honestly that I'm ready for all of this to be over as soon as possible too. I just want to be able to say that this is behind us. That we have survived it. Maybe now is too soon. Maybe this will just serve to pull Jake back under. 

I look up at him, worry in my expression. "We don't have to do this today," I tell him gently. Sometimes it feels like he's doing things because he believes he should, not because he wants to, or is ready to. I take his hand in mine with one hand and then raise the other to his cheek. "We can come later. In a few days. Once things have settled some more. Charlie will hold on to whatever it is for you. You don't have to worry about that." 

I wait for his response, part of me is hoping he's ready to handle this, but another part of me hopes that if he's not, he'll be able to admit it. He'll wait. He'll hold off. He won't put us through any more turmoil.

JACOB

She’s right. We don’t. We don’t have to do this today. And I know she’s worried. Worried that it might be too soon, that the wounds are still too fresh. But I can’t help but feel that if I hold this off, I won’t be able to handle it all over again later. Might as well get it all over and done with now, in one go. “We’re already here, might as well,” I say heavily, patting her hand before gently lifting it off its place on my cheek and bringing it back down to her side. “Let’s go.”

Inside I see Charlie, and he has me fill out some documents and sign them. Everything feels so final now. Like Dad’s life has been reduced to a bunch of paperwork. Sometimes it still doesn’t seem real, like it has to be some sort of nightmare. But it’s not. Dad’s dead. And buried. And even though I know it can’t happen overnight, I need to start somewhere, need to start coming to terms with it. When I’m done, I hand the stuff back over to Charlie and he starts to lead us to the back.

I can’t help but feel a shudder running down my spine as I get a sense of déjà vu. Following Charlie down a corridor. Remembering what it was like the last time. Surely nothing could be as bad as that. “It looks pretty new,” Charlie says, indicating for us to follow him. “I’m guessing he must’ve just picked it up that night or something.”

And my heart cracks. Not again. I want to stop in my tracks and say no, no Charlie I’m not ready for this, no I don’t want to see this, keep it for me Charlie while I pull myself together, come on Nessie let’s go. But I’m too late. We’re already there.

NESSIE

Jake says that we should go. He argues that we're already here. I want to point out that that doesn't matter if he's unsure, if he's not ready, if he's still too upset to deal with this. But he has a look of determination on his face, and I know that all that I can do is go along with it. Be there for him. No matter what Charlie has. But I find myself hoping it's something inconsequential, like his cowboy hat, or something. Something that Jake would like to have and that wouldn't ruin the peace he has found recently. I know he's not happy. I know he's not okay with it. But I do know that he's finally accepting it. He's finally coping. And he's not blaming it on me, or us. All good things. I just don't want anything bad to come of this. 

I stand and wait as Jake fills out the paperwork. I feel bad for him for this. It must seem to him like his father's life has been reduced to nothing other than a bunch of dotted lines on which to sign. I study Charlie for a long time, trying to read his body language, trying to get some idea of what this thing might be. But Charlie has always been hard to read. Likes to keep thing quiet, likes to keep his cards close to his chest. I get nothing from him, other than a look of general discomfort, since I'm looking at him like he holds all the hidden answers to all the questions about life and death. I decide to save the moment by making small talk as we walk down the hall. "So how's Sue?" I ask him. Around the time that I was born, he had started seeing Sue, Leah and Seth's mother. And at first things had been rocky, Seth and Leah hadn't been fond of the relationship. Seth eventually came around after seeing how happy his mom was, though it took him a while to accept that Charlie didn't want to take his dad's place. And Leah had been nothing but belligerent to both of them after they announced the engagement. At first she barely spoke to any of them, which I could tell hurt her more than she let on, insisting that Seth too was a traitor. and I knew for sure that that hurt Seth by the look in his eyes and on his face whenever his sister was around, or anyone talked about her. But eventually Dominic helped her come around, accept Charlie and the wedding. And in the end, she was happy for them, the maid of honor.

"She's good," Charlie said, glad to have me no longer staring at him and to file away the reason as my curiosity. "Leah’s coming over for dinner this weekend. We’re all pretty excited. She’s been pretty busy lately." If circumstances were different, I would try harder to find out what she’s been busy with, but it seemed insensitive right now. I squeezed Jake's hand that I had been holding since we began walking. 

That's when Charlie said it, the words that put my whole world on pause. It was new. Billy must have gone to get it that night. I wanted to jump in the way, to shield Jake from whatever it was. I knew that this present wouldn't be welcome right now, more than likely, no matter what it was. Because it would be a reminder of the loss. I leaned closer to him, kissing his shoulder. And then we were standing in front of it. 

It being an ornately carved bookcase. And I couldn't help but gaze at it in awe. It was beautiful. I reached out to touch some of the carvings in it, unable to control myself. "It's beautiful," I said quietly. "Don't you think?" 

That's when I turned to face Jake. That’s when I could literally see, on his face, his heart shattering all over again. I could see some of the darkness creep back in. But I could still see parts of my Jake too. And I tried to cling to them as I held his eye contact. "Charlie, I don't think we can take this with us right now," I said, never tearing my eyes from Jake.

JACOB

My eyes fall on it before we even get there, even before Nessie leaned in and kissed me on the shoulder, as if she were somehow trying to ease the tension. But it doesn’t make it any better. It doesn’t make me feel okay, or even comforted in the slightest. Because I’ve found myself looking straight at this… this thing, this thing that killed him. Nessie reaches out to touch it, marveling at how beautiful it is. But all I can think about is how it managed to stay so perfectly intact, when my father’s face looked like it was almost splitting into two, how it survived when he didn’t.

I can almost imagine what my dad must’ve been thinking when he decided to get this. It’s not hard to guess who was on his mind. And… and there’s nothing wrong that, it’s not Nessie, not Nessie’s fault, I tell myself. But all the same, I can’t stand the sight of it. I keep my hands at my side, holding them still. Very still. I’m afraid that if I so much as move, I’ll just go lunging at it, breaking it apart and pounding it to dust. That’s what I’d like to do. I’d like to destroy it so that I never have to see it again. Ever.

She turns to look at me, a look of worry creeping across her features. Her soft eyes fix on mine. I hardly blink. My eyes feel like they’re burning, just from having to see this thing. She quickly tells Charlie that she doesn’t think we can take it now. My jaw tightens. My muscles tense. “Get rid of it,” I say bluntly before turning my back on it and walking away.

NESSIE

I stare at Jake's back as he walks away, storms away is more like it. And I feel dread moving into me, like I'm breathing it into my lungs, as if it were smoke. It enters my lungs and slowly unfurls, taking over every part of my body. I turn back to look at the bookcase. It is beautiful, but I can understand why it's too much for Jake to handle. As I study it, realization hits me like ice water. I almost gasp. This present was meant for me. For both of us, for our wedding, but Billy had to have me in mind. Jake didn't have a bookcase, he wasn't really a big reader. I however was raised on books, reading, classics. I have original copies of some. I remember one time when I was younger and visiting Billy, I had told him forlornly that they were the only friends I had, my books, because I had to always be hidden away from the outside world. Billy had told me that maybe it was better that way, because the books could never leave or argue. This bookcase obviously had me in mind, a home for some of my best childhood friends. Jake was upset with me. He blamed me. 

I shook my head to Billy. He shouldn't get rid of it. Jake might change his mind. But I didn't want to say anything for fear of Jake hearing me contradict him. "Don't," I mouthed to Charlie. He nodded, understanding. I gave him a silent thank you in way of a hug and then I turned to force the door that Jake had just walked out of. I wanted to have an excuse to linger. I wanted to have a reason to not have to face Jake yet. I could only imagine how he would look at me, what he would say. And it made my heart break. I looked down at the ground and prepared myself for it. 

I hesitated one last time before pushing the door open and looking for Jake. He was nowhere in sight. And for a moment I panicked. Had he left me? He was after all the one driving. Would he really just leave me here? But he hadn't. He was waiting in the truck, engine already running, kind of with that air of 'what took you so long'. I took a deep breath and climbed into the truck. He didn't say anything, barely waiting for my seat belt to click into place before beginning to drive home. Half way there, I couldn't take it anymore. I had to know what he was thinking and feeling, no matter how harsh, hateful, or painful those words would be. "Jake, talk to me...please?" I reached out to take his hand into mine. I needed to know. We couldn't work through any of this if he wouldn't talk to me.

JACOB

Driving home, any peace that I had been feeling this morning seems to have evaporated all over again. Gone. I sit here wondering how we managed to laugh and smile over breakfast, thinking that maybe I’d been dreaming. I wish Charlie had never told me to come get it. I wish it had been destroyed in the crash too. I wish I’d just listened to myself earlier and decided that I didn’t want to know what it was. But I also wish that my dad were alive, and so wishes are just futile. 

Yet it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change the fact that I can’t help but have this burning, irrational hatred towards that thing. As if it had been driving that night, as if it had been the cause of everything. With the way I’m feeling, you’d almost think that the bookcase had come to life and bludgeoned my father to death or something. But I can’t help it, I can’t pretend that it’s the most beautiful thing in the world when it represents this entire tragedy from start to finish. From the engagement to the crash.

The moment that thought comes to mind, I realise that Nessie’s hand is holding mine and she’s asking me to say something. “About what?” I respond more harshly than intended. “About that, that– thing?” There is still some small sense of comfort in her touch, as there was just before, and I could cling to that. I could hold onto it and let it keep me where I am, keep me from shutting off completely. But my mind seems so dark and clouded over again, her touch mingling with unhappy thoughts. I pull my hand away and place it on the steering wheel with the other. My eyes stay on the road, fixed hard ahead, concentrating harder than I need to. “There’s nothing to say.”

NESSIE

"About what? About that, that- thing?" He roars at me. And I had been prepared for a bad reaction, but it still catches me off guard. The sheer force of his voice makes me jump, puts me on edge. And unbidden I remember what it felt like to have him grab my wrists and yell at me about my ring. I pull my hand away from him, shrinking to my half of the car, really not wanting to provoke him again in some way to be physically violent. I could handle him raging, screaming, even destroying things. But I didn't want him to be rough with me again. 

I close my eyes, feeling almost guilty that I love the present. That I think it's beautiful. But I try to tell myself that there's nothing wrong with enjoying Billy's last gift to us. Nothing at all. "About anything, Jake," I say again, pushing him to open up to me. "About what you're thinking. What you're feeling. Just don't shut down. Don't close yourself off from me." 

Even if his words were I blame you and it's all your fault, I wanted to hear them. I wanted to hear anything he had to say, anything that was on his mind or in his head. I just wanted to be let in.

JACOB

I hear her pleading softly with me, to talk to her, to open up to her, and I want to. With all my heart I want to. But at the same time I feel like I don’t know how to do that anymore. And that rips me apart even more, the fact that I can’t talk to the one person that I’ve always been able to connect with. She begs me not to shut down, but I wish I could. I wish I could shut down. I wish I could shrink away so that I don’t have to feel, feel like this. 

I let out a groan of frustration as I swerve sharply and bring the car to sudden halt on the side of the road. I need to calm down or I’ll get us both killed, just like Dad. Resting my elbow on the side of the door, I lean back in my seat, still unable to look at her. “I don’t think I can do this, Nessie,” I say in a tone that’s quiet, but once the words leave my lips I realise how icy they sound, as if I were hearing someone else say it. “I can’t do this anymore.”

NESSIE

He swerves unexpectedly to the side of the road and I gasp in surprise. His eyes slip closed. And he looks like he's going to talk. And I have to say I'm happy he's going to open up to me. I want to hear what he has to say. Anything he has to say. But the words that he does say cut me to the core. What? He can't do this anymore? What can't he do? Be sad? Be confused? Live like this? It feels like an ice cube is slowly sliding down my back as I take in what he probably means. Us. He can't do us anymore. How is that even possible? we're imprints. We're supposed to mean everything to each other. He's supposed to need me. I still need him. I love him. And I know he loves me. But I guess if he needs time...if he needs time, I could give that to him. It would be hard. It would be torturous. Being away from him. Not seeing, or hearing from him. It would be like that time back in high school before we admitted to being in love. 

I stare at the glove box for a long moment. I feel tears in my eyes, rolling down my cheeks, I taste their salt on my lips. I think I know what he's talking about, but I have to hear him say it. "What do you mean?" I ask him, my voice shaking, the tears evident in it. "What can't you do?"

JACOB

I hate this. Hearing the tears in her voice, knowing that I put them there. Under normal circumstances, my first reaction would always be to reach out for her. But now I’m frozen in place, frozen cold. I keep my eyes closed, not wanting to see her pain, pain that I know I can do nothing to wipe away. All I know is that this is getting too much for me. All of this. It’s consuming me and dragging me down and it’ll drag her down with me. She asks what it is that I can’t do, and how do I tell her that it’s this? It’s this that I can’t do. Us. I don’t know how to look at her anymore without seeing everything that’s gone wrong. Without seeing that ring, that bookcase, my dad.

I decide not to say it aloud, to voice it. So instead I ignore her question, cutting straight to the chase. “I’m sending you home.” And this time I’m not asking.


	17. All Bottled Up

NESSIE

He says it, with a sense of finality that I shouldn't argue with, but I can't help it. I can't stop. I'm desperate. I'm willing to beg. Even when he's this upset, he is still my light. I know I can't live without him. I can't live without the light. The words rip from my mouth, even while I know that they will do me absolutely no good. "What? No! Jake, please don't," I crawl across the bench seat, closer to him, touching his cheek, tears flowing freely down my own cheeks now. "Don't do this. You're hurting. And you're sad. And you have every right to be. What happened is awful. But you don't need to be alone. You need me. I need you. We can get through this. Things with us can work. If you give it time, we'll get past this." I hated the desperate tone in my voice, I sounded like the desperate drunk girl begging the man that she knows doesn't love her to keep her anyway. I'm pathetic. 

"Look me in the eye," I say to him. "Look me in the eye and say you don't need me, that you don't love me, that you want to lose everything we've worked years to build." I hold my breath, hoping he can't do it. But if he does, then I will leave, until he's ready to talk to me again. 

JACOB

She’s begging me. Pleading with me. And I know deep down that I don’t want to be alone. But I don’t know how she can believe that things can work anymore. Somehow I just don’t feel like I can possibly share that faith anymore. And when she asks me to look her in the eye, my heart aches even more. For her. For this. Of course I need her. Of course I love her. Of course I don’t want to lose what we have. She knows full well that I can’t look her in the eye and tell her all that. But it’s like we’ve already lost it. Why does she want to force it? I want to soften up with her, I want so desperately to be gentle, but the next thing I know I’m snapping at her before the words even get processed in my head. “What do you want me to do, throw you out?”

It’s something I’ve never dreamed of saying to her. Even to my own ears, it sounded so cold and harsh. But I can’t, I can’t look her in the eye but I can’t find it in me to make this work either.

NESSIE

I don't think he would actually throw me out. I don't. But the fact that he threatens to says it all. I'm going to go. I slide away from him slowly. "Okay," I say quietly after taking a moment on my side of the truck to collect myself. "Call me if you need anything," I tell him quietly. I have things at his house, but I don't think that that's really important right now. After all, I'm still holding onto hope that he'll want me back. I open the passenger door and get out of the car. I feel the need to put as much distance between us as possible. I'm not sure where to go, but I know that I have to run. So my feet thunder down the pavement as my vision blurs, but not in the direction of my house, I'm heading towards Rachel's. I don't even know why, but lately it seems like we've become closer. And it seems like Paul doesn't hate me so much anymore. 

I get there in record time and knock hard on the door. Rachel opens it. "Ness," she says quietly, taking me into her arms, and I fall into them immediately my chest heaving with sobs. I know I’m hoping. I know I said he could call me. But deep down, I have a feeling that he will never call. That my phone will never ring. That I will spend eternity waiting. 

Paul came hurrying down the stairs at the sound of a girl sobbing, probably worried that Rachel had snapped again, but she hadn't. It was me. And his reaction surprised me. He said, with a growl in his voice. "What did he do now?" his eyes looking to my still bruised wrist, almost as if he were worried there was some sort of pattern of abuse. 

"We went to the police station...bookcase...threw me out," are the only words that are intelligible in between sobs. They both look at me confused. "Can I?" I ask, holding my hands out to them. Rachel has always agreed, but Paul has always told me to keep my creepy power to myself. So I am again surprised when he nods. I touch the sides of their faces as I pass along the important images from this morning, and then I collapse on the couch in more sobs at having relived every moment of it. Rachel starts to comfort me, but Paul says, his tone icy cold. "I'll be back."

JACOB

My heart shatters at the tone of her voice, so sad, so deeply hurt. I want to take it all back but I can’t bring myself to. And before I know it, she’s gone, leaving me alone in the truck feeling broken and empty. Hot, burning tears run down my face as I let out a cry of despair, slamming my fist onto the dashboard. Something cracks, but whatever it is, I don’t care. I don’t care anymore. After a long moment of just sitting there, feeling defeated by whoever or whatever it is up there that’s out to get me, I start the car up again and drive back home. Alone.

And hours later, I find myself in the garage, tinkering with the car, for no reason in particular except to just keep myself occupied. If I don’t, I’d be sitting in the house with Nessie, just letting the awkward tension build up in the room. I’d rather not have that. Even though she’s here, even though I know I can’t not be around her, I also know that if I’m too close to her I might say or do something that I’d rather avoid.

I’d come home earlier to find Paul waiting at my doorstep, with a look that made me wonder if he was just looking for a fight, because if that’s what he wanted, I would’ve given it to him. And it would probably have been a repeat of what happened a couple of years back, the last time Nessie and I took time apart. That would be sickly ironic. But he seemed to be struggling to control himself as he spoke to me, and what he said shocked me. Nessie had gone straight to Rachel. And here Paul was sticking up for her.

At first he was relatively calm, telling me that grief was no excuse for throwing it all away, that I need Nessie as much as she needs me, that like it or not we can’t live without each other. And then I got defensive. I shouted at him for butting in and told him to mind his own bloody business. Since when had he ever given a damn about Nessie anyway? If I recalled correctly, it was just days ago that he called her a ‘heartless half breed’. He growled at me through his teeth and yanked me up by the collar. “Quit being an ass and get some sense into that head of yours before I knock it into you.”

And even though Paul has never been the epitome of ‘good sense’, nor have we ever been the best of friends, I still couldn’t deny that what he said was true. Nessie and I needed each other. That was the way it always had to be. The whole time, it seemed like he was holding something back, like he was trying hard not to say something. But whatever it was, he didn’t get around to it. He just left it at that, and just a while later, Nessie was back. But now she looked timid and seemed to shy away almost, for fear of provoking me again.

So I figure I’m doing her a favour now. By staying well out of the way, fixing a car that needs no fixing.

NESSIE

It's been days. Days since I've been back, sleeping on the couch again, spending most of my time just trying to stay out from under foot, and keeping the place clean and cooking for me and Jake. The silence hung heavy in the air like a curtain. A curtain that I wished I would somehow be able to pull back. Jake spent most of his time in the garage working on the car. A car that I was pretty sure wasn't broken because a few times when I went to go check on him, he wasn't doing anything, just sitting, sometimes crying. And I never said anything. It was better for him to get it all out alone, if the only thing he was going to do with me inside the house was clam up and be passive aggressive. 

Tonight he was actually sitting with me after much pleading, instead of taking his food in the garage. And I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. I missed him. So much. Even if he would just hold me and it would mean everything, I wanted to be close to him. I reached out and touched his hand gently for just a moment and then pulled away. I knew trying to get him to talk was asking for trouble, but I couldn't take the silence anymore. "How're you doing?" I asked him timidly, unsure of if I should, but needing to know if he was okay.

JACOB

I pick at my food, not even that hungry. I usually end up tossing half of it out, but this time I'm inside with Nessie and I might as well eat rather than have us sit there staring at each other. The air feels thick with unspoken hostility. Well, hostility that's really coming from me. I don't even know why she's still here, still trying to keep up with this farce. Could it really get any worse if she wasn't here with me? At this stage, I'm not even sure anymore. I just want to finish my dinner and go back outside, or go to bed, or pretend to go to bed. Whatever. 

She touches my hand. When I tense up, she quickly withdraws. And then she asks me how I'm doing and I feel like she's asked me that over and over since this whole nightmare started, and I feel something in me just erupt. Something that I've spent this whole time trying to suppress. Her words smash the bottle, releasing it all without warning. "For God's sake, how many times do you have to ask me that?" I snap at her, putting my food down.

NESSIE

I'm taken aback by his eruption at first. But I can't take it anymore. The silence. The hostility. Him bottling everything up. Maybe if I push him, if we rant and rave and yell long enough we'll get somewhere, we'll have a breakthrough. Maybe he'll say how he really feels. Maybe he'll say what's really wrong. Maybe he'll finally talk to me, even if we do do it at shrill volumes. 

"I don't know Jake," I explode back without thinking about my words first. I have had enough. I can't do this. "How many times am I going to have to ask you before you actually give me an answer. Before you say something. Anything." I shove my own plate away, rising from the table, glaring down at him. "Why did you even ask me back if you don't want me here? If you don't want to talk to me? If you're just going to ignore me? Why?" 

He needed me. I knew he needed me. I needed him. But this almost made that inconsequential. This fight right now, both of us venting all of our emotions, seemed like the most important thing in the world.

JACOB

She’s had enough too. Her cheeks go pink as she fires back at me, her voice even louder than mine. Anger and frustration written all over her face, she stands up and stares daggers down at me, demanding why I bothered asking her back for this. My blood starts to boil as I rise to my feet too, knocking the chair over as I do. “Oh, and what did you expect me to do after you went crying to Paul and Rachel?” I yell back. “That’s what you wanted, so don’t blame me for it. I didn’t force you to stay and I’m not forcing you now.”

All the words rushed out before I even knew what I was going to say. And I don’t mean any of it, but it actually feels good saying it. That is, until I actually realise what I’m saying – then it makes me feel like a rotten jerk. But right now I’ve reached my limit, and I just don’t know how to stop myself.

NESSIE

"I didn't know where else to go," I yelled back at him. His words stung. But I barely noticed. He only wanted me back...no only took me back because he had to. Because Paul and Rachel made him. But I don't focus on it. I'm hurt and I’m angry. Now he's on his feet too. He's on his feet. Is he trying to intimidate me? Granted I don't look so tough having to glare up at him, but I still square my shoulders defiantly, clench my fists, and argue as if we were eye to eye. "I went to the first people I thought I could trust." 

I take a step closer to him. "Did you really expect me to go home? With things like this? You know how my family would react. They'd never let me come back. Is that really what you want? Do you really want to lose me forever?" I was outraged. "If that's what you want, just say the word! Just say the word and I'm gone. I'll go. I'll go home. And I'll never look back. Because I can't do this forever Jake." 

I slammed my hand on the counter. "You can't do this to me forever. You can't just ignore me. And treat me like dirt. And you can't blame me forever. Eventually you just have to let the whole thing go." I immediately regretted that. That wasn’t well thought out, or well worded. He would never really let this go. His dad was dead. But he would get past it. And he would forgive me. Not that I needed forgiveness for anything really.

JACOB

When she asks if it’s really what I want, to lose her forever, I can’t deny that her words hit home. Hard. And then she says that eventually I’m going to have to let this all go. But I never will. I know I never will. “Well I’m sorry that you’re feeling so neglected. What the hell do you want me to do, take you to Disneyland so that we can have a cup of tea and laughs with Mickey Mouse?” The words come out so loud that I wonder if the ceiling isn’t going to come crashing down on us in a moment.

“Stop putting this on me. From the very start, I asked you to go, more than a few times,” I point out to her, ignoring the part about telling her that I actually want her to leave, which is something we both know I can’t do. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times – if you’re not happy here, you’re free to go. Go back to your mom and dad, and I don’t care if they come hunting me down. You go back to them, Nessie, and be grateful that you will never have to see them die.”

I clench my fists at my side and take a step away from her, still just sane enough to keep some kind of a distance in case I can’t control myself, in case things get out of hand. But my frustration is building, and it’s rising up to the brim. “I’m trying to deal but I can’t. I can’t look at you without thinking about why he was out there in the first place. I can’t look at you without seeing his dead face. My father’s dead face.”

NESSIE

I feel tears in my eyes as he accuses me of being selfish. He accuses me of feeling neglected. And maybe I do. But I know he's going through something huge. Now is his turn. He gave me my first nine years, he was selfless. And more than once I put him through the ringer. And now I can give him this. I can give him this. I have to keep telling myself that, or I'll leave, and it'll be impossible to come back. 

"No, Jake, I just want you to talk to me," I yell at him, "I want you to let me be here for you. I want to help you. That's all that I want. But you won't let me in." 

He tells me he's offered me more than one out. And it's the truth. He has. But I could never take them. "I could have never left you," I say, my voice growing softer, as I moved closer to him, "You needed me here. You needed me with you. At first you understood that. We can't survive losing each other." I moved even closer against my better judgment. "I love you, and I couldn't leave you when you were so sad. If I were acting like you are, you wouldn't have let me out of your sight." 

I take a deep breath. "But I guess maybe we can't survive with each other either." 

I sigh, feeling defeated, the pulsing anger from before wearing off. "I don't care if you blame me forever. I just can't fight with you about it any more." Not even the silent passive fighting we've been doing. I looked up at him, the fire surging again, as I said forcefully. "But I don't think Billy blames me for his death. And it probably pains him that you don't want his gift." 

I feel ashamed the second that I sneer those words at him. They were cold, heartless, below the belt. But so is him implying that I would rather be at home with my undying parents, instead of around to support him.

JACOB

My heart feels like it’s being ripped apart when she speaks so sadly, about us and everything that’s been going on between us. Or not going on between us. But I’m still burning, far from calm, and she’s so close. And so when she mentions my father, and when she mentions the gift, I find my hand rising from my side before I can stop myself. But it only gets halfway before I realise what I’m doing. I clench my fist hard, until my knuckles whiten from the pressure. 

I stare at her, and she stares at me, and the reality of what I was just about to do hits me hard in the face, and that actually hurts. That I would even come close to doing it. “Do not push me.” I let out a growl of frustration before pushing past her with my shoulder and storming out of the room before I can do anything to her, and then out of the house to burn off all this steam.

NESSIE

I'm a little shocked that he went to hit me. Only a little. I was unusually cruel. And he hasn't been himself lately. I wince slightly as he slams into my shoulder as he brushes past me. Don't push him. I shouldn't be trying to push him. I should try and let him be. He will, hopefully, deal with this in his own time. I just don't know how much longer we can make it like this. Maybe I really should go. Maybe I should give him his space and go home. And wait for him to be ready to see me again. Maybe I should. But I can't. I still crave his closeness. I still love him. I still can't leave him when he's like this because I'm worried about him. What might he do? 

He stays out almost all night, and I can't sleep, not knowing where he is, but I don't dare look for him. Instead I watch re-runs of The Hills on MTV until he returns. I don't acknowledge him in anyway when he shows up in the early morning hours, but I feel myself relax. I feel the tension leave. He’s okay. At least for now. He slams the bedroom door as he enters it and I jump. But I finally turn the television off and lie down on the couch, quickly falling asleep, feeling exhausted. 

The next few weeks passed without us speaking for the most part. Almost as if nothing happened. Except the tension in the air is thicker. It's almost suffocating. I decide that maybe it'll make things better if one of us apologizes. Maybe we'll both be less tense, maybe he'll be less angry. I know that I can't seek him out. If I did, he would surely freak out on me. So that night as he walks through the living room on the way to bed I say to him. "Oh, Jake," he pauses, but he doesn't turn to face me. "I'm sorry. For everything. For wearing out my welcome. And for the hurtful things I said." I don't plan on going anywhere, but maybe if I acknowledge it, it will go some distance to fixing it.

JACOB

She apologises. One night, out of nowhere, she apologises. And she sounds tired of all this, of how we’re hardly speaking with each other, and I’m sure of having to avoid stepping on my toes. I’m tired too. Physically and mentally exhausted. I feel like I’ve fallen into this hole and she’s tossing me a rope, but I can’t reach it. I don’t know how to get out. I don’t respond to what she says. When she’s done speaking, I keep walking, heading straight for my room. And then I slam the door behind me, and lay awake in bed all night.


	18. Billy's Final Words

NESSIE

It's been about six weeks since I apologized to Jake. I was wrong. It didn't make anything better. It maybe even made things worse. How, I'm not sure. But our not speaking continued. And when we were speaking we were having the same argument over and over and over, just going round and round in circles. And the stress was almost too much to handle. I had thought about leaving more than once. But I knew Jake didn't really want me to, since he could never demand that I leave, only threaten it. And sometimes I would see him crying in the garage, or look in his eyes and see all the pain and anguish there and I no longer had the desire. I couldn't punish him for being in pain. But it was becoming impossible to live like this, under the crushing weight of this stress. 

This morning would have been the same as all the others, if not for the extreme pain in my lower abdomen and between my legs. I whimpered as it woke me from my sleep. I tried to move, but that made the whole area feel as though it were on fire. I cried out softly. I didn't want to draw attention from Jake if I could avoid it. I slowly raised to a sitting position, the air completely leaving my lungs from the torturous pain. And that's when I saw the blood. So much blood. I tried to stand and couldn't, the pain being too great. I did the only thing I could think of, I grabbed my phone and dialed the number that had brought me peace so many times over the last few months. And maybe now they would help too. 

"Hey Ness," Rachel answered the phone in a friendly way. 

"Rach," I breathed out between my tears. "I need help. Something's not right. There's so much blood." 

I could hear panic in her voice. "Blood? Nessie, what happened?" 

"I don't know," I moaned into the phone. I could already hear Paul ushering her out. He had at the word blood, I was sure of it. I heard him tell her to ask me where I was. "I'm at Jake's," I answered before she could even ask. 

Within minutes, they arrived and let themselves in with Rachel's key. "Nessie?" Paul called out, panic evident in his voice. 

"In here," I managed to say back to him. And in seconds they both appeared. Paul's eyes widened and Rachel gasped. 

It was two hours later and we were at the hospital, and though we were all embarrassed by it a little, Paul had refused to leave the exam room through everything, insisting that he needed to know we were both okay. I had laughed sardonically. We already knew I wasn't okay, that's why we were here. But like I was saying, we'd been here for two hours, and now it seemed they finally had answers. 

"We're sorry Miss Cullen," the doctor said, struggling to find the words that would hurt less, maybe, "You lost the baby." 

I was stunned. I think everyone was stunned. "Excuse me?" I questioned him. At the same time that Rachel said, "Why didn't you tell us you were pregnant Ness?" 

"Because I wasn't," I snapped at her, looking at the doctor again. That wasn't a funny joke. He just stared back at me. And I let it all sink in. I had been tired. I had been sick. I had just assumed it was from stress. And that's also why I assumed that my period hadn't come. Because it was a little over a month late now. I took in a sharp breath. I felt tears in my eyes. I was a horrible person. And an even worse mom. I hadn't even known I was pregnant. "I was pregnant," I breathed. 

And then my world collapsed with the force of the loss. I had lost a baby. I began to sob. I had lost a baby. I had lost my baby with Jake. I had lost the one possible good thing I had left with Jake. "No," I cried, shaking my head, trying to pretend it away. But the pain, the blood. It was all real. The doctor kept talking, but the only thing I heard was that stress had caused me to lose this baby. And even that wording felt insulting. It's not like I misplaced the baby. Our baby was just gone now, gone as if they had never existed. Why? Why now? And the pain intensifies, as I realize that the one person that I want right now, will never come. 

I look up at the other two and say quietly. "Don't tell Jake," I don't need him to blame me for anything else horrible that happens to us or between us. 

Rachel is stunned. "I don't know if I can keep this a secret," she says. I beg her with a please and my most pleading look and she says okay, but I know it's just to sate me for the moment. She probably will tell him and I can't blame her, I wouldn't want to ruin their relationship. 

Just then Paul’s phone vibrates. "Sam needs us," he announces. "I'll stay," Rachel says as she tries to comfort me. He nods and hands her the keys. "I'll run." She nods back to him, giving him a quick kiss. And now I worry. Because Paul is about to share a mind with Jake.

JACOB

I lay awake for an hour before deciding I was probably not going to get any sleep tonight either. So I decide to get up and go out again, something I’d been doing a lot lately. I’m not on patrol tonight, but that doesn’t keep me from going into the woods, walking through it aimlessly, just so that I don’t have to remain idle and stare up at the ceiling and replay the crash that I never saw over and over in my head. And about an hour later, for some reason, I find myself standing outside my father’s house. Again. It’s happened several times, and I’ve never trusted myself to go in.

But tonight, standing here and looking at the familiar structure, my heart feels drawn to it. Drawn to the familiarity of the place, the place that holds so many memories, where for many years, it was just me and my dad. My dad and me. I still have in my bunch of keys the one to his house, and without really thinking about it, I walk up to the door. And I must’ve stood there for a long, long time, not quite sure, not quite ready. 

And then I take a deep breath, and I walk in. It doesn’t smell like a house that hasn’t been lived in for some months, which tells me that Rachel has been around. Turning on the lights, I can almost feel his presence knock me over. He’s everywhere in this house. On the doorframe where his hand would rest momentarily before he wheeled himself in. In the kitchen where he’d get himself his morning coffee before having breakfast, and then another one right after. In the couch on which he and Charlie would spend evenings watching the games. Everywhere. I feel the tears coming down so hard that I’m tempted to run out. It still hurts so bad.

But I don’t do that. Instead I move further into the house, until I come to his bedroom. It still smells of him, as if he’d never left. “Dad…” I whisper to no one as I enter, pieces of my heart scattering across the floor as I do. The bed’s not made properly, and that’s typical of him. He just throws the covers over and calls that ‘making the bed’. I sit on the edge of it, looking around the room. I see his hat hanging on the back of the door. It’s his spare, the other usually sits on the dresser. But he must’ve worn it that day.

My eyes shift over to his bedside table. I see his glasses, resting on top of a book. I move closer to see what he was reading before he died. Something weird that Nessie may have heard of. I smile in spite of myself, but that’s when something catches my eye. Something white sticking out from underneath the book. The edge of an envelope. Curiously, I move the book and pick it up. It’s not addressed, but there’s something inside. Surely he wouldn’t mind if I had a look now, right? No one else ever will.

And then the first words that jump out at me are the names ‘Nessie & Jake’ at the top of the card on the inside, written in what I recognise as Dad’s handwriting. My heart gives a jolt. I start reading. I’ve been waiting for this day for ages, to finally be able to congratulate you on the most special event of your lives. But really, I’m a little selfish, because I think I might be happier for myself. Why? Because this is my dream too, perhaps more than it is yours. Don’t roll your eyes, Jake. I let out a short laugh at how well he knows me, how, if he were here, I would’ve told him that that’s just plain weird.

Every parent wants nothing more than to see their children happy. And I know that this will make you happy, both of you. You may not be married yet, but Nessie, you’re as much a daughter to me as Jake is my son. I feel the tears slide down my face, smudging the ink slightly. I quickly wipe my eyes, not wanting to destroy the card. And then he goes on to mention the present. He had meant to pass this to us along with it. This gift is small compared to what I wish I could give you, but know that I give it to you with all my love, and all my blessings. 

And that’s when I feel a stab of guilt. His gift. With all his love… all his blessings… with all his heart, he’d wanted us to have it, to give it a place in the new life that we were going to build together. And I had turned my back on it. I’d asked Charlie to get rid of it. I’d treated it like it was worthless. No, like it was evil. The same way… the same way I’ve been treating our relationship, which Dad had always been supportive of. The same way I’ve been treating Nessie, whom he’d loved as his own daughter. And rightfully so, because I realise now that everything she’s been trying to tell me since this happened, Dad would probably have said as well. They understood each other on a level that I’d been blind to until now.

Here’s to love and life and the future, kids. Embrace it. Can’t wait for the party. Dad.

I stare at that last line for ages. And then I read it all again. And again. For hours I just sit there, feeling as if he were right next to me, speaking those words to me. He had not known it then, had not anticipated it, but these were his final words to us. And for the first time ever, I feel myself being released from the torment of not having been able to say goodbye. He wouldn’t have wanted a tearful, mournful goodbye. Just like he wouldn’t have wanted me to mope around like I’ve been doing since he died. Can’t wait for the party. That is how he would’ve wanted to be remembered. His memory celebrated.

And he’s telling me this. He’s telling me all this right now. To pick up the pieces and move on, make things right again. 

* * *

It’s a few hours into the morning and I find myself finally able to take my leave of the place. I leave the card where I found it. We’ll come again, together next time, and I’ll show it to her. As I walk out the door, it feels like there’s finally a sense of closure. I’ll never truly get over the loss of my father, but somehow I know I’ll be able to live with it, and be glad for the time that we did get to have together. Right now I want to go home. Go home and talk to–

I’m barely halfway into that thought when I get a call. And the second I hear Sam on the other line, everything else evaporates and the most important thing at the moment is to keep the place safe. I burst into a run to where we’re meant to meet up, fully phased. Sam explains on the way that they’re not quite in the territory yet, taking their time, but they will be. But the whole time as I try to gather what he’s saying, there’s a swirling dark mess of thoughts in my head that I can’t explain, one that’s not quite like the usual tangle. And then things start to unfold the moment we’re all together and I see Paul, his eyes glaring as he growls at me. What the hell is your problem? I demand, and he growls even louder. Sam tells him to quit it, that this is not the time, but Paul snarls. I’ll show you what the hell my problem is, you pathetic piece of… 

And he hurls it all at me before I can even work out what’s gotten into him. The look on Nessie’s face weeks ago as my hand slipped from hers and stormed out of Rachel’s house. Paul’s anger starting to grow at the sight of Nessie’s bruised wrists, which she tried to hide at my father’s funeral. Her anguish and Paul’s sympathy, his sympathy, when Nessie showed them our fight in the car, when I made her leave. And it looks horrible. It feels like I’m watching a movie that I just want to shut off but I can’t get the stop button on the remote control to work. The flood of thoughts and images continues to flow into my head, mercilessly. 

And by the looks of it, I deserve no mercy. Over the last few months, I hadn’t quite realised how often Nessie has been going to Rachel’s to confide in her, to confide in Paul even. Of all people. That really hits me hard, that I’ve been so cruel to her that even Paul thinks I’ve been a proper, full-fledged jerk, that Paul himself looks like an angel next to me. I was never there for her, not once in all the miserable weeks gone by. Not once. I was so consumed in my grief that I’d left her to suffer alone in silence. I’d even hurt her physically, and almost hit her once. Yet she stood by me the whole time when anyone else would’ve walked away. I can’t believe I did that to her. I feel repulsed with myself, for hurting her so badly, so deeply.

But nothing, nothing could hit me as hard as what he shows me next. I feel like someone’s punched me in the chest. Blood. There’s so much blood. And she’s so pale. Nessie... no… no, no, Nessie’s hurt. I have to get to her, I have to get to Nessie…

I’m not done with you yet, jackass.

Not done with me? What more could he have to show me?

Why do you think she was bleeding?

I… I don’t know. I just know that I have to get to– she lost the what? I think my heart’s been ripped apart and shattered so many times already by now, but apparently it can still get worse, it can still hurt worse. I see it all through Paul’s eyes, and I feel my own anger towards myself meld with his. Nessie was pregnant. And she lost the baby. Our baby. Because of all the stress that she’s been going through. Stress that I caused her. I feel myself choke as the emotions rise. And I can feel everyone else’s shock too. And Paul’s fury. This is the extent to which I hurt Nessie. We lost a baby…

Jake, go, get out of here. We’ll handle this. Half of my mind begins to protest half-heartedly, but Sam insists. You’re no good to us like this. Just go to her, she needs you.

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I bound off, away from them, running at full speed until I approach Rachel’s, where I know she would be right after what happened. Then I phase back and quickly get into my shorts before running up to the house and banging on the door, desperate to get to her, desperate to know that she’s okay. Even though she’s not. She’s not okay, she can’t be after what happened. I let her down, in the worst way possible. And I came to terms with my grief too late.

Rachel opens the door and she starts to say something but I push past her to get to Nessie. And then I’m standing before her, a few feet away from the couch. Bundled up in a blanket, her hand resting over her belly, the first thing I notice is how weak and ashen she appears. But even more painful to see is the look on her face. She looks crushed, devastated. And at first I want to hold back my tears, to be strong for her. But then I remember how it backfired the last time and I realise that I can’t, and I shouldn’t. I should never have held anything back from her right from the start. We could have cried together, mourned our loss together, but I’m realising that too late. And because of that we’re now mourning another loss.

I hesitate at first, thinking that she must hate me. That she wouldn’t want me near her, wouldn’t want me to touch her. But her tear-filled eyes stare at me with a look of longing, one that has been there since I first started pushing her away, one that I’ve been too blind to see, one that has only intensified now after what just happened. And I’m filled with that same longing. “Forgive me…” I whisper brokenly, knowing that, for all the pain I’ve caused her, she shouldn’t, knowing that I will never be able to forgive myself for this, never be able to atone for what I’ve done.

Yet one look at her and I know that it’s not guilt, not remorse that she needs or wants from me. And so I go to her. I go to her and I slowly, gently lift her up against me, wrapping my arms around her. Holding her hands which seem so much colder than usual now. Stroking her cheek. Kissing her hair. All that as we cry together, both in pain, both grieving, both heartbroken. 

And there are no words for this. No words. 

NESSIE

I haven't spoken a word since Paul left. Except for to say okay to Rachel once when she said I would stay with her and Paul until I was feeling better. However long that took. And I didn't have the strength to argue because where else was I going to go? Back home? I didn't want them to know what happened, though I knew it was only a matter of time. I had been at the hospital, Carlisle worked at the hospital. They would know soon. And that would be that. They'd be worried. But once they knew the truth, they would be angry. And I didn't need anyone making things with Jake and I more complicated, even if I was fairly certain that he might never come back to me. To Jake's? I couldn't imagine that either. I couldn't continue to be treated that way right now. And for a few days I would be sore, I would need help. And that was just physically. I would fall apart emotionally. I already was. 

Rachel had tried to distract me and make conversation on the way home, but I couldn't bring myself to speak back. I couldn't see past this final devastating blow. And the fact that I had gone through something this horrible without Jake by my side, seemed to drive home the point that Jake was gone. Losing his father was more than he could handle. And losing him and this baby was more than I could handle. I would be surprised if I ever spoke again. If Jake wasn't there to talk to, why would I want to? Why would I want to talk to anyone else about how I had first failed Jake and then failed my unborn baby? Why would I want to talk about how that baby was gone forever? How could I explain why I was so upset? I had after all never even known about this baby until it was gone. People wouldn't understand my mourning the loss of something I'd never even known I had. 

I had finally turned my head towards her, my eyes must have radiated pain, loss, a lack of will, because she flinched at the look I gave her. And she nodded, in an agreement not to talk. The rest of the drive passed by in silence. She helped me out of the car and into her house. She set me up on the couch with something to drink and some soup, which was probably cold now, since I still hadn't touched it. She had covered me up tightly and sat next to me, not once breaking the silence that I wanted as she held my hand, giving it a soft squeeze whenever I was reduced to tears again. My hand resting on my stomach thinking about the fact that I could have been feeling a baby move around in there in a few months, instead of nothing. Instead of my cold skin, against my flat stomach. And I felt tears again as I tried to picture my small frame carrying a big wolf baby. I wanted that baby back. My last link to Jake. I wanted it so badly. I lay there for hours, hand on my stomach, trying to will something that was already dead and gone back to life, my hand holding Rachel's tightly, as if she were the only thing tethering me to reality, staring at the ceiling, past the ceiling, unblinking and unseeing, imagining a different world. 

There was a pound on the door. Rachel jumped, startled. I simply blinked for the first time in hours. I blinked, and the world I saw beyond the ceiling was gone. My peace was gone. My comfort was gone. It was all gone. I felt the tears come again, as Rachel, worried about why someone would be pounding on the door now when all the guys should be fighting the vampire enemy, went to answer the door. 

I heard his footfalls before I saw him. I knew it was him. I continued to stare at the ceiling. Maybe I hadn't been broken from my peaceful fantasy world, maybe I had really and truly snapped and was imaging more life-like than ever what was happening to me. What I wanted. Because I wanted Jake. My whole body screamed for him. If I didn't think it completely useless to have screamed out loud for him, I probably would have. His scent pervaded the room and that broke the spell. I didn't think that I was crazy enough to imagine even his scent. I slowly turned my head to face him, my eyes taking a moment to focus, to now stare ahead blankly. And when I saw him, I felt relieved. I felt comforted. I felt glad to have him with me. He was breaking right now, because I must have looked so small and broken, if I looked anything like I felt. For a moment it looked like he might try and be brave. I didn't want him to be brave. That could tear us apart even further. And then he broke. "Forgive me..." he barely whispered. He didn't need to ask, I already had. I had never held him responsible. He looked like he might keep his distance. My eyes pleaded with his. I needed him. Please, Jake, I pleaded in my head, come to me. And he did. He came and swept me into his arms, holding me close to him. I felt warm for the first time since it happened pressed against his hot chest. And I knew from his words prior that Jake was back. That something had changed, though I didn't know what. And I let all the tension and pain slip away, I cried it all out, my face buried in his shoulder. 

When my sobs had subsided, he settled me on the couch again, laying me down with him as he wrapped the blankets around us tightly. And it was then that a feeling that I'd yet to have a chance to let slip in overcame me. I had thought Jake wouldn't come for me. But now that he had, I realized that I had failed him. I had failed us both. This was my fault. I had lost this baby. My breath hitched again as I whimpered, "I'm so sorry." I was unable to meet his eyes, instead, they stayed fixed on his chest.

JACOB

She cried. So hard, it’s heart wrenching. And I cried with her, for the way I’d neglected her and mistreated her, for all the pain that I had put her through, for the death of our unborn child. We remained that way for the longest time, oblivious to the world around us, completely and utterly lost in our grief. When at last our tears had finally slowed, I lay us both down on the couch. I cradle her against me, trying to be careful with her, afraid to hurt her when she seemed so fragile. 

And now, one look at her and I know that she already loves the baby, even though she never knew it, didn’t even know that she was carrying it until she’d lost it. My heart breaks as I think about how on that night, while one life was taken away from us, we’d been blessed with another. And instead of cherishing it, I’m the one responsible for ending it. Which is why it breaks my heart when she tells me she’s sorry, her voice sounding like she might fall apart all over again, as if she really believes that this was her fault. It’s my fault. And her perceived guilt is my fault too. I’d dumped the blame for my father’s death on our relationship, on her. And now she thinks she’s to blame for this too.

“No, no, Nessie.” Cupping her face, I tilt it up, trying to get her to look at me. Her eyes are so full of sorrow, I know she’s never been so upset in her entire life, and I hope she’ll never have to be again. And while I’m hurting too, maybe even worse than when I found out Dad died, I know that there is no way this could even come close to what she must be going through. “No, I’m sorry. You did nothing wrong. I’m the one who let you down.”

But no amount of ‘sorry’s could ever begin to make up for what happened. It was a tragedy that had pulled us apart, and it’s almost as if I had waited for a tragedy to bring us back together again. And it’s cruel, too cruel. To her and to the baby. Our baby. All these years, I had tried so hard to protect her as best I could, to shield her from harm. And in the end, I’m the one that she needed to be protected from, I’m the one who brought her harm. “Oh Nessie…” I say sadly as I kiss the top of her head, wishing I could fix things, wishing I could take away all her pain and give her back everything she deserves.

NESSIE

He holds me so close to him, and my arms are wrapped around him, holding him as tight as I can in my weakened state. I want him to be close. I want to hold onto him and never let him go. Now that he's back, all I can think about is wanting to drown in him, get lost and never find my way back out, to reality, to deal with this pain. I breathe deeply, taking in his scent. His scent that smells like the sea shore he loves so much, and musky like the woods he runs through. I feel safe for just a moment. And then he lifts my head, trying to get me to look him in the eye, but I can't. I can't meet his eyes. I avoid them and when I feel like I can't anymore, I just let them slip closed, blocking out everything. 

My head rested against his chest again. And he began to talk, but I could hardly focus on his words. I focused on the soothing, vibrating sounds coming from his chest. And I gave a small sigh of contentment. For the moment I could forget. And then his words came back to me. Filtered in through all of my calm. he was apologizing to me. He was trying to absolve me of my responsibility. I couldn't speak for a long time. He had let me down. I couldn't dispute it. I didn't have the energy for an argument. But I needed him to know that this, this wasn't his fault. How he treated me was, but the miscarriage wasn't. 

I stayed silent, my head resting on his chest for a long time, just breathing in and out. Then I finally speak quietly. My voice sounds foreign to me, like I'd forgotten about it over the hours of disuse. "You did let me down," I say to him. But I pull him closer and place a kiss against his chest, by my head, so he knows I'm not mad. "But you were hurting. You were dealing with a tragedy. I was never mad at you, even though you weren't handling it well. I was frustrated a lot that you discounted us, me, as a source of help or comfort. I was sad that I might have lost you." My breath hitches, slightly there and I let out a slow ragged breath. "But I was never mad at you. I never gave up on you. On us. I love you too much for that." 

I become silent for a moment and then I speak again, my voice cracking slightly. "This feels the same. I can't fix this. I can't make something dead, live again." I decide not to mention that I'd layed on this very couch for hours trying. "I let myself fall apart," I say quietly, "I gave up on everything but you." I bite my bottom lip. "And now our baby's dead." I felt so many tears flooding my eyes again. Our baby was gone. I'd lost the baby. No one else. 

I closed my eyes tight, burying my face into Jake's bear chest as the sobs come again. "How can I be so sad about loosing someone I didn't even know?" I choke out between sobs, wondering if he can even tell what I'm trying to say to him.

JACOB

She lapses into silence, and I just hold her closer, letting her have all the time she wants. Even though this would be different for her, I do at least understand the need to just be silent having just gone through that myself, and I leave her be, stroking her hair gently. And then when she finally speaks up, she voices my own thoughts, admitting that I did indeed let her down. But she refuses to hold it against me. She stood by me and she stands by me still. She had faith in our love even when I abandoned it, abandoned her. 

After a short pause, she continues again, but this time her voice starts to crack, the pain showing through. “I can't make something dead, live again.” I close my eyes as the truth in her words delivers a blow to my gut. I can’t either. But I wish I could. My arms hold her tighter as she reduces to tears again, as she asks how she could be so sad about losing someone she didn’t even know. But I do. The baby was a part of her, of both of us. It’s a loss that I feel as well. “Ssh, ssh… I know you are, honey, I know,” I murmur, trying to wipe her tears as I feel my own slide down my face. “I am too…”

I rub her arm, trying to soothe her, at least as much as possible right now. I try to think about it in a way that would give us both just a little peace amid all this overwhelming grief. “Our baby’s with Mom and Dad now. They’ll take care of him,” I say quietly, trying to imagine this, to paint this in my mind. I just don’t want to call our child an ‘it’, despite the fact that for all we know, the baby could’ve very well been a girl. “They’ll love him up there, and we can love him from down here.”

NESSIE

He pulls me closer to him and his warmth floods me. I feel safe and comfortable with him. I feel comforted. He strokes my hair and kisses my forehead. He whispers soothing words to me while I fall apart all over again. And then he says that he feels it too. And I feel guilty for neglecting his feelings, but I don't have the strength or energy to try and make this any better for him. I couldn't pull it together, even if I wanted to, so instead I just hold him tighter. I can't do anything else. I can barely control my sobs as he starts to talk again. I only try because I want to hear what he has to say. 

I let his words wash over me, sink in. And I like them. It doesn't make the pain any less. But it brings a small bit of peace. Knowing that if our baby can't have us, then he has them. And no one could pick better back up parents. They did after all raise three amazing children in Jake, Rachel, and Rebecca. But it doesn't exactly give me a levity of spirit. This idea. Even if it brings peace. "Your dad would love having him around," I make out around my tears. I don't know much about his mom, Sarah, but she must have liked kids. 

It's then that I feel wrong about not having anything to call our baby. The baby. It. Him. They just all seem too impersonal for someone that I love so deeply. "We should name him," I say, a new strength in my voice, now that I felt like I had a direction to move in. It wasn't really a suggestion. It was something I needed, so I hoped he wouldn't argue.

JACOB

She wants to name him. She wants to give him a proper place in our family. The family that we were going to build together. And I realise that I would like that too, to give him a name that would make him ours, make him more than just some thing that we lost. Still, I can’t help but worry slightly, worry that she might find it harder to let go this way. 

But she sounds so determined when she says this. Maybe she needs this, to help her cope, and if it will give her any comfort at all, then I won’t deny her that. And I guess, a little selfishly, I don’t really want to deny myself that either. But mostly, I don’t want to deny our baby a sense of identity.

“You’re right, we should,” I reply, giving a small smile as I nod in agreement. I lightly brush her cheek with the back of my hand, looking down at her and seeing just a faint glimmer of light in her eyes again. “Did you have anything in mind?”

NESSIE

He brushes my cheek lightly with his hand as he agrees with me. And for the first time I look up at him, my eyes finding his, locking with his. I feel blown away by the pain, compassion and love that I see there. There isn't an ounce of blame, lying in his eyes. I lean up and kiss him lightly, unable to resist. The touch of my lips against his feels so good. It feels like I've found home. And it's comforting in a different way. And for a moment I almost want to get lost in the physical comfort he could offer me and just forget the words and forget the emotions. But I can't. I can't neglect our baby again. So I file it away as a possibility for later. 

I rest my forehead against his and shake my head. "I'd never really given it much thought," I admit to him, "I always assumed children would be down the line for us. After I finished college at least. And I worried that maybe we couldn't have children being vampire and wolf, so I never really let myself think about it much." I look at him, into his eyes. "What about you?"

JACOB

Finally she brings her eyes up to meet mine, and she looks at me as if I’d never failed her the way I have, as if she loves me just the same, even in the midst of all this pain. And I realise how much stronger she really is compared to me. When my dad died, I’d found it so hard to look at her without assigning fault, but she seems to be doing it effortlessly. I can’t help but admire her strength of heart. The moment her lips touch mine, I realise just how much I’ve been missing this, missing her. Even though she was always right there.

She says that she’d never given it much thought, and I really can’t say much different for myself. “Same here, to be honest,” I confess when she turns the question back on me. “I’ve thought about it before, having a family, but I never really thought it would happen this soon.” I pause briefly. “Maybe we should give ourselves some time to think about it, come up with something good. We want it to be perfect for him.”

NESSIE

I don't really like his suggestion of waiting. I don't want to wait, or put it off, like naming our baby is on a to do list, and it can't even be bothered to be near the top. But Jake's right, we don't want to name him any old thing. We want to name him something that's right. Something perfect. And most future parents get months to consider their options. Not minutes. I nod, but I can tell that it's sulky and dissatisfied. 

I lean against him silently and think. And think. And think. I can't think of anything else. "What if we name him after your dad?" I say finally, hoping that I'm not treading on a subject that's still taboo. "Like William?" I look back at him. Now that I've arrived at this idea it feels so silly to have not thought of it sooner. 

And then I realize something I hadn't talked about. Something that's still a mystery to me. "What happened to you?" I ask him quietly. "I'm not complaining. But what gave you such a change of heart?"

JACOB

William. My heart warms up at her suggestion to name him after my dad. That she would think of that. I wonder why it didn’t cross my mind. “Little William…” I test the words on my lips. It seems so fitting. So perfect, to name our child in honour of my father. For a moment, I imagine holding our child, bouncing him on my knee. But I’ll never get the chance. And then I imagine Dad doing just that up there and it makes me smile a little. “I’d love that,” I tell her quietly, blinking against my unshed tears. “And I’m sure Dad would’ve loved that too.”

Then she asks what happened to me, and I realise that she wasn’t expecting me to come. After all, I’ve barely spoken to her in ages, no wonder she’s confused. “I went over to Dad’s. I hadn’t been able to until last night,” I start to explain, my fingers playing with her bronze curls. “And I found something in his room. I think he was meaning to give it to us along with our engagement gift. It was a card, meant for us.” This is the first time I’m able to call it that. A gift, instead of a thing. But I can’t help but feel a stab of regret at not having treasured it, at refusing it, at telling Charlie to get rid of it. I wonder if he did. But either way, what’s done is done.

My mind drifts back to this morning, sitting on the edge of his bed, reading what he’d written. All those heartfelt words, his love and excitement shining through. And I should’ve known to expect no less from my father. “And I read it… I guess I finally got my goodbye, and it woke me up,” I tell her simply. “I’m just sorry it took me so long.”

NESSIE

He repeats my suggestion, trying it on for size. Little William. I smile as I imagine what Little William would have looked like. And as I picture him in Billy's arms now. Billy's watching out for our little one now. The one we lost along the way and may never see again because of our inability to pass on. But I know he's in the safest hands ever. "Little William," I repeat with a smile and a nod. It's settled. That's his name. 

Then he answers my question. He explains about going to Billy's. About finding the card. About having come to grips with his grief too late. And he apologizes as he plays with my hair. It puts me at ease. Makes me relax. I shake my head at him. "Don't be sorry. We all handle grief differently. It takes us all different amounts of time to work through it." I understand he lost something huge. Something that rocked his world. And I understand that he needed time to deal. I just wish he had let me in. "But you're back now," I tell him, giving him a squeeze, "That's what matters." 

Now that he seems happy about the present, it seems okay to tell him about my behavior at the police station with Charlie. "I thought you might change your mind about our present," I tell him, "I told Charlie to keep it. Maybe one of the guys could help you with it in the next few days..." I hope that he will be glad that I did this.

JACOB

I swallow hard when she refuses to blame me for my behaviour. Like it was somehow justified. And I suppose to some degree she’s right. We do handle grief differently. And although I could’ve handled it better, now is not the time to dwell on my guilt. Instead I need to start making up for all that lost time. She seems to just be grateful to have me back. 

And then she tells me that she told Charlie to keep the bookcase. And it’s impossible not to feel touched by how well she knows me, even when I didn’t know myself, even when I’d lost myself. “Thanks,” I murmur as I bring her hand up to my lips, kissing the back of it lightly. “Thank you…” I say again, my voice thick with emotion.

Then I study her face carefully, taking in every feature, taking note of how pale and weak she looks. “Do you need anything?” I ask quietly, unable to ignore my concern. “Something to eat? Or at least a drink?” She seems to want to pass it up, but I beg her with my eyes. She needs to get some strength back or her body will take longer to heal. “Please, for me?”

NESSIE

He seems so touched that I kept the present for him. At the thick emotion in his voice, I feel the tears come to my eyes again. We've missed out on months with each other. And we've lost two very important people. And it's hard to think of anything else. But I know that I have to, or I will become absolutely lost to Jake. And I can't disappear on him, I can't stare blankly at the ceiling forever. "No problem," I whisper to him, nuzzling my nose against his neck, trying to distract myself with him. But it's hard. All I want to say is how much I miss the baby. But I don't want to drag him down anymore. 

Eating is the farthest thing from my mind. I'm not sure my stomach would support it. The grief is so great, the loss so profound. It lurches at the thought. I want to argue with him, but he's pleading with me, so I nod. "Yeah, okay, something small. Normal small. Not wolf small. And something light. Can you handle that iron chef?" I tease him. He doesn't cook often, so I'm imagining eggs, or a bowl of cereal, maybe soup. Though I know from experience that when he puts his mind to it, he can make delicious food.

JACOB

I’m reluctant to leave her, but it won’t be for long, and I’ll just be in the next room. “Oh, I’ll figure something out,” I say with a faint smile, planting a kiss on the tip of her nose. Then I start to get up, trying to be careful with her as I lay her back down again, tucking the blanket more tightly around her small frame. “Just call me if you need me, okay?” I tell her, unable to not think about all those times over the last few months when she’d needed me and I wasn’t there. I stay where I am for a moment, my hand on her cheek as I see the tears still welling up in her eyes. “I know you miss him. It’s okay to miss him. It’s okay to cry.” I remember her saying much the same to me just weeks ago.

Even though I was planning on going to get her something to eat, I linger for a while until her tears have calmed down a little. Then I tell her I won’t be long and head to the kitchen to start up something. I speak to Rachel for a while. I know she thinks I’ve let Nessie down, but she knows that I already know that and doesn’t rub it in. Instead we talk about what we should do over the next few days and decide that it’s up to Nessie. She can choose to come back with me, but she may feel that she’d be more comfortable with a woman around. We decide to leave that up to her, because that’s what’s most important right now – keeping her as comfortable as possible.

Rachel goes back out to sit with her while I put together a proper soup – none of that instant stuff Rachel gave her upon getting back from the hospital. No wonder she didn’t want it. At first I try not to think about our baby as I cook, try to distract myself with the chopping and the dicing, but then I realise how unfair that is, to want to be distracted from his memory. I can’t do that, so I let myself think about him anyway.

A while later the soup is ready and I’m back outside with a small bowl in my hands. “See, it’s Nessie-small,” I say with a grin, hoping to lift her spirits at least enough to get her to take this.

NESSIE

He returns back to me with a bowl of soup. And he says that it's Nessie-small and I can't stop the small laugh that comes out. I nod at him and take it from his hands. It is indeed just the size I had been intending. "Thank you," I say to him quietly. I stir the spoon around until I realize that he's made this from scratch. It wasn't from a can, or a pouch. I feel so touched by the act of kindness, that I feel tears well up in my eyes. "Thank you," I repeat again, tears in my voice. 

He's watching me intently. I know that he wants me to eat. And he went through all of this trouble. I can't just let it go to waste. I bring the spoon to my lips and needless blow on it. It really does smell amazing. I probably do need this. And as I pull in that first spoonful of soup, I realize how hungry I actually am. "Mmm... it's delicious," I say to him with a small smile as I begin to eat with reckless abandon. Like now that I've started I can't stop. 

I bring up to him what Rachel and I were talking about. "Rach says I can stay here with her and Paul..." I wonder how he feels about that. I want to go with him. I want to be with him. I need him. And I know Rachel would come over if I really needed a girl to talk to. But I didn't know if Rach was offering to be nice or because she knew Jake couldn't handle me right now.

JACOB

She looks like she’s about to cry again as she thanks me for the soup, and I wonder if it’s because she’s touched or because she’s upset. But I figure it’s both. Her emotions are after all unstable so even the slightest thing could trigger her tears. And that’s okay. So long as she knows I’m here, the way I haven’t been over the last few months. “Any time.” At first I worry that she may not eat it, but she does, and whether it’s because she really wants to or only for my benefit, at least she’s taking something. And after the first spoonful it’s like she’s realised that she’s starving.

Then she brings up Rachel’s suggestion for her to stay here. And again, now that I’ve found my way back to her, I don’t want to let her go. But I want her to have all the comfort that she needs, and if it’s here, then I want that for her. “If that would make you feel better, then of course you should stay,” I tell her, tapping her lap gently. Her love is something that she gives to me freely, but I feel that, after everything, I’m going to have to earn it back. “I’d really love to have you home and I want to take care of you. But I know I haven’t done any good in that department lately, so I’ll understand if you’d rather stay here. And I’ll come over as often as you want. Either way, it’s up to you, whatever you want.”

NESSIE

I feel so relieved, tension I didn't know I held, leaving my body, as he said that he wanted me to come home with him. That was all that I wanted to hear. "I want to be with you," I said to him quietly, as I leaned into him. I set the empty bowl aside. "I just didn't want to burden you with more than you could handle right now." I admit my fears to him. My eyes searching his. Is he truly able to take care of me right now? 

He looked ashamed, sad, hurt. I reached out and squeezed his hand. I hadn't meant to hurt him, I just wanted to be honest with him. I wanted him to be honest with me. "I know you want to Jake," I said quietly. "And I love you either way. I just...I can't be like this, and you be absent...or worse..." 

I hoped he understood.

JACOB

I’m hurt by what she said, but not because of her. I’m hurt because of what I’ve done to her, my happy, spirited Nessie. And I don’t know if I can ever bring that girl back. When she voices her fears about me being absent, or worse, my heart aches. I had not only failed to be there for her – I’d hurt her, physically, with my own bare hands. Like she’d meant nothing to me. And there is no excuse for that, not even grief. Violence should never have factored into our relationship, ever. But I’d let it. And it’s led to this. I’ve stripped her of her innocence and that – that is permanent.

Nodding, I lift her hand to my cheek and hold it there for a while. Even though I’m sad, about all that’s happened, now that the fog has lifted everything seems clear again and I know I can balance my grief with the rest of my life, with my duty to her. But I can see where she’s coming from – she is apprehensive, and rightfully so. She’d given me her trust so completely without expecting me to betray it in the blink of an eye. If I were her I would feel the same way. 

“I understand…” I say quietly. “I know that I let you down. I hurt you, deeply. And I’m glad you’re telling me this, glad that you’re being open with me, the way I wasn’t.” How she could still look at me this way, and forgive and love me with such a pure heart, would be completely beyond me if she were anyone else but the Nessie I know. “And I could promise and swear on heaven and earth that I’ll take care of you, that I’ll never do that again. But promises are cheap, just words, they’re not enough. I want to show you.” Because I know that only my actions from now on can ever begin to come close to making amends. I don’t expect her to be able to put her faith in me again now, at least not this soon. “But like I said, I want you to go with whatever makes you most comfortable, okay?”

I stroke her fingers absentmindedly as another thought comes to mind. I didn’t just let her down – I let Bella down too. When her family finds out, if they haven’t already, things are not going to be pretty. They will come after me, with the intention to kill me. And I wouldn’t blame them. In a clear state of mind like the one I’m in now, I would want to kill anyone who hurt Nessie too. Sooner or later, I’m going to have to face them and take responsibility for my actions. “I need to talk to your parents,” I tell her somberly. I know it’s not going to be an easy task. In fact it’s likely to be a dangerous one, because they’re not going to want to talk. “They can’t be kept in the dark for long, and they shouldn’t be.”

NESSIE

I close my eyes and just bask in the feeling of his touch for a long moment. The truth is that part of me wants to go with him so badly, and another part of me wants to hide here so badly. It would be easier to stay here with Paul and Rachel, to let them take care of me. To only let Jake visit. To keep him on the outskirts until I was stronger. But I knew I wasn't strong enough to keep him away. I needed him. And how was he ever going to prove things to me if I wouldn't let him? If I kept him away? I wanted to have faith in him again so badly. "I'm going to go with you," I answer after much deliberation. 

Then he brings up my family. A topic that I had hoped would be avoidable until later. A few days at least, though I knew that that was wishful thinking. They were probably going crazy with the news already. I nodded slowly. "They probably already know...from me going to the hospital," I tell him honestly, "So we should talk to them sooner rather than later." I hoped that he wouldn't argue about us doing this together.


	19. Gather Some Compassion

JACOB

I would’ve gone to face them myself today, but she insists on doing this together. And after the last few months, I should’ve at least learned that we need to stick together through these things, so I didn’t argue. But if that’s the case then I didn’t want to do this today, when she’s still so weak. We reached a compromise, and decided that it would be best to head home first and deal with it later, once she regained a little strength. 

I didn’t come with the truck, but I didn’t think it would be wise to what, pick Nessie up and run home. So instead I borrowed Rachel’s car and promised to return it soon. The drive home is quiet, but the tension that’s usually there is now gone. Nessie has her eyes closed, her head resting on my shoulder, and I try my best to drive as steadily as I can. 

But things don’t really work out as planned. I smell them way before I arrive. They’re waiting for us – no, for me, at my house. When we get there, the first thing I see is Bella, my best friend, looking like she’s ready to tear me to shreds. Her eyes are blazing with a fire so intense that I almost worry that the whole place is going to go up in flames. I exchange a glance with Nessie, who’s sitting up properly now having realised what we’ve come home to.

I’m tempted to let her stay in the car first, but she’s adamant that we do this together. Now. Reluctantly, I get out of the car and scoop her up into my arms, draping her arms over my shoulders. Bella’s charging at me, her beautiful voice so shrill I’m expecting the windows to shatter. “Jacob Black–”

“I know, Bells, I know, can’t we settle her down inside first plea–”

“You get your dirty hands off of her you filthy, useless piece of scum, I’m going to kill you!”

Uh-oh. The gates of hell just opened.

NESSIE

My family is already waiting for us when we get there. I straighten up, trying to be alert, trying to look my best. I survey the scene. There's my mother, who looks like she could catch the whole world on fire with the look in her eyes. And then there's my father. He looks completely tortured. Like he's confused. Should he be angry at Jake for what's happened. Should they be mad at themselves for letting such a distance grow between us. Or should he be sad about the loss, a shoulder to cry on in my time of need. And I was sure all of our thoughts weren't helping him either. He seemed like a broken man. And the look in his eyes brings tears to my own even before Jake lifts me out of the car. And that's when I see Uncle Jasper. And I hope that he can keep things level. 

Jake tries to invite them in to talk after settling me in. But my mom doesn't want to hear it. She launches herself at Jake, demanding he stop touching me. And for the briefest moments I'm afraid that she'll rip through me to tear him apart. I cringe and hold on to Jake tighter, fearing for both of us. But I refuse to leave his arms. He's safer if I'm in them. 

Uncle Jasper seems to sense all of my pain and fear and he sends a calming wave out to everyone. Maybe the others need it, but the only one I can tell needs it is my mother. "Jasper," my mother growls deep in her throat, "Stop messing with my emotions." She's still glaring at Jacob like she wants to bite him. That will kill him almost instantly. And I love my mother. I know she's only doing this to try and protect me. She's doing this because she loves me. But she can’t seriously think that hurting or killing Jake is the right thing to do. He's her best friend. He's my soul mate. I need him. Without him I would never survive. We have things to work through. He has things to atone for. But not things to die for. I need him. I bury my head in Jake's chest. 

"Bella," Edward says gently, moving to stand next to her. He can hear my thoughts. His anger rages silently behind his eyes. But he doesn't want to push me to another breaking point and I am grateful. 

Bella turns angry betrayed eyes onto Edward. "She needs him," he answers simply. 

"She'll learn to live without him," Bella grinds out around her clenched jaw. "She'll find someone else." 

I want to scream at my mother. Would she ever find someone else if Dad died? Would she ever forgive the person who did it? She demands again that Jake put me down. And that's when Dad looks at me and then looks him in the eye. "We've come to take Renesmee home," he says, "She needs her family now. And Carlisle can take better care of her than anyone. And she doesn't need to be here." At least he's being logical. At least he's not trying to rip out Jake’s throat, but I still don't want to go. 

"No," I say shaking my head. But my father doesn't listen. And I am too weak to fight. He reaches out his arms to Jake. "Do what's best for her," he says, and I know he's chosen the words deliberately. I stare at his arms that are waiting for me. Don't I get a say in this? My eyes turn to Jake and plead with him to not let me go. But I also know that his guilt might make him.

JACOB

It’s Edward who turns out to be the peacemaker. Okay, maybe that’s giving him too much credit. He’s still pissed, but at least he’s being level-headed. Which is probably more than I would be able to do if I were in his shoes, I suppose. He demands silently for Nessie to go home and for once, I’m not completely objecting to his words. He’s right that she needs her family, and any medical attention that the doctor can give her. So the moment he tells me to do what’s best for her, I’m torn. Because that’s what I want, to do right by her. I don’t stare her father down, I don’t argue. In fact I hesitate, thinking that maybe this is really what she needs.

But I look at her and she’s clinging to me even harder, begging me not to let her go. I see her eyes and I feel my resolve strengthen. She wants to stay. She needs me. I stand my ground, refusing to let Cullen take her from me. “With all due respect, it’s not my decision to make. I won’t go against her wishes.”

His eyes narrow but before he can say anything further, Bella growls at me through gritted teeth, “Oh, so did she ask you for this then? Look at her, Jacob!” I wince at that. It hits home hard, my failure to protect her from myself. I tighten my hold on Nessie, sure that her mother’s words would have cut her too. Because I didn’t just get her pregnant, I caused her to lose the baby too. Bella immediately regrets her words and she looks to Nessie, her expression softer. “I’m so sorry, honey, I–”

Then Edward cuts in, trying to make up for Bella’s lack of tactfulness it seems. “Come home, sweetheart,” he begs his daughter, his eyes pleading. And even though he’s not my favourite person in the world, I know Nessie loves her dad and would hate to hurt him. He tries to pacify her, to negotiate. “You know he can’t take care of you right now, like this. Come home, please.”

NESSIE

My father begs me to go home with him. He plays on my fears and I don't know if it's intentional, or if he just got lucky. If he knows I'm afraid Jake might fail me again, because he can hear it somewhere in my mind, or if these thoughts are truly his own. And for a moment, I feel my resolve crumbling. To hug my mother, my father, my Aunt Rose would mean so much. To feel Jasper's calm come over me would make things more bearable. To go with them would be so easy. But what about Jake? He’s still grieving, for more than one thing now. He still needs me. I still don't have it in me to abandon him. And I need his warmth, his touch, his smell, his voice, everything to stay sane right now. My father's sad, imploring eyes bore into mine. So I ask the most obvious, most logical question. "Can Jake visit?" 

My father hadn't been expecting this. He had been expecting my mother's attempted words of comfort and his pleading to do the trick, to convince me, to get me to go with them. He looked to Bella and then back to me. "I don't know if that's the best idea," he said. 

"Maybe it's time you put all of this past you," My Uncle Jasper's first words of the evening. I knew mom and dad would never ask me to do that. They understood. Or I thought they understood. But then my mother nodded in agreement. 

"We've talked," she says, again looking at Jacob so coldly. "We think you should see if there's a way to break it. The bond." 

Now my father speaks. "After today, it's obvious you have too much power over her." 

This time, I growl. Jacob exerts no power over me. He does not control me. All he does is love me. And I love him. And we need each other. And this rough patch aside. He makes me happy, so happy. He can even comfort me in the face of something so dark. I can't believe they would threaten to take all of that away from me. They wanted to take Jacob away for good. "Even if you broke it. I would still love him," I bite out at my mother. "We're getting married." My tone holds more conviction than I possess, since I'm not entirely sure if this is Jake's plan anymore. "If you can't accept that. If you can't accept that I'm staying. Maybe you should go."

JACOB

They refuse the compromise. For the first time since she was born, they want to break what we have. Even Bella, whom after the initial shock of things grew to accept and even encourage it – even she wants it over. And again I can’t blame them. I did wrong Nessie, I did hurt her and let her down. I can no longer stand up to them the same way that I used to, no longer have the right to. 

But Nessie is quick to do just that. Still holding on to me tightly, she refuses to go with what they want. And then she surprises me by saying that we’re getting married. I look down at her. It’s not that I don’t want to – I may have questioned it over and over after Billy’s death, but now that I’ve come out of that, I couldn’t imagine a future without her in it. It’s just that, quite frankly, I had thought that she’d be wanting to hold it off. That her faith in me would’ve dwindled enough for her to want to slow down. But based on the determination in her voice, I suppose I must’ve been mistaken.

“If you can’t accept that I’m staying. Maybe you should go.”

That’s when my head snaps up, and the shock must be as evident in my own face as it is in theirs. Even though I want her with me, I know that Nessie adores her family, she would never turn them away. I would never try to come between her and them. She needs them too much. “Ness…” I look up at Edward and Bella, who are staring at me as if it’s all my fault. I wonder briefly why Blondie isn’t here, I’m sure she’d love to butcher me now. She doesn’t mean it, I think as I look at Edward. If he hated my guts before, I’m pretty sure he’d want to put me through every trick in Hitler’s handbook right now, with subtle modifications to suit his own bloodthirsty taste. 

Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have given him that idea.

“Guys, I know you’re concerned, and I can understand why, but this really isn’t a good time,” I say, even though I’m not quite fit to play the role of mediator given the dispute. But I don’t want her to turn her family away completely in the spur of the moment, especially when she’s so stressed out. I don’t want her to say something that she’ll regret later. “She really needs to rest right now…”

NESSIE

"You expect us to just leave her here, with you!" My mother spits out at him, saying you as if Jacob is some heinous mass murderer. As if he's the next Jack the Ripper, or Ted Bundy. And he's nothing of the sort. He’s nothing that deserves her contempt that strongly. I hate that she's yelling at him like this. But the point is true. I don't want to sever ties with them. 

"Don't you think, you're missing the point here," I demand of my family. And they all seem to freeze for a moment. "Is the point really that Jacob let me down once? Are we not allowed to have rough patches? Is he not allowed mistakes?" I look to my dad. "You left mom," my attention turns to Jasper, "Because you attacked her." I close my eyes for a minute. "And mom, can't you remember the comfort Jake gave you?" I look at her. "He gives me that same comfort. Just him being there." I take a deep breath, "I got off track. Shouldn't the point be that you’re sorry for my loss, our loss? Shouldn't that be the point? Not some cosmic war between wolves and vampires over property? Because I'm not property. And I have lost something. And I'm disappointed that you didn't come here to acknowledge that. That you didn't come here because you care. You came here to wage war with Jake." 

I wasn't sure I wanted to talk anymore. "And I should lie down." And then I looked at Jake. But I wasn't sure that he would take me away while they still wanted to talk. Argue. War. Whatever. He wouldn't just take me away from them. 

"Gather some compassion," I bit out at them.

JACOB

They’re all at a loss for words, and for a moment so am I. But she has a point there. They’re not here to comfort or soothe. And isn’t that what she needs right now? Not all this bitter arguing. I glance down at her and she doesn’t look good to me – she’s on fire now, but in a while she’s going to be completely drained. “Okay, look, Nessie really needs to rest right now, and standing around here picking fights isn’t going to do her any good.” Even the angry demon Bella can’t argue with that. “If you won’t come in and discuss this calmly, then I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Silence. They don’t want to back down, they’re refusing to compromise. Either they leave with Nessie, or they just leave. And even though Nessie could use her family right now, they don’t seem to be offering the compassion that she needs – instead they’re just aggravating her. I shake my head. “I’m sorry guys, come back when you’re ready to discuss this in a civilised setting.” I stride past them and though they’re all fuming, they don’t stop me.

Once we’re inside, I take her straight to my room and lay her fragile form down on the bed, under the covers. I plant a kiss on her cold forehead, holding my palm to her cheek, “They’ll come around. You don’t have to worry about all that now, okay? Just rest.”

NESSIE

"Okay," I agreed. Truth was, I was feeling weak, and tired. I didn't want to spend energy worrying myself to death over it. In fact right now I was still too upset and angry to miss them. But part of me was holding out hope that they would come in. That they would want to discuss this calmly. I looked up at Jake, placing my hand on his cheek. "I love you," I whispered, "And I'm sorry they were so cruel to you." Even though they were cruel to me too. I looked up at him with imploring eyes. "Hold me?" 

He quickly obliged, crawling in to bed next to me and once I felt safe and warm in his arms, I continued to speak. "So, what I said out there," I tell him remembering the shocked look on his face. "I meant it. I still want to get married to you....if you still want to get married...?" I waited for a response.

JACOB

She’s the one who’s in real pain and yet she’s thinking about me, apologising on their behalf for something that’s at least partially justified. But I leave it at that. I don’t think we need to upset her any further by staying on the subject of her family. At least not until she’s well enough to deal with it again. So when she asks me to hold her, I climb in and wrap my arms around her, pulling her close. Somewhat selfishly, it hits me how much I’d missed this, this closeness, over the last few months without even realising it.

Then she brings up the subject of marriage again. Of course I’m assuming she means later, down the line, once we’ve worked through our grief and learned to cope. But I’m still surprised that she still wants to. “Of course I do,” I say quietly, stroking her arm lightly. “But I know I have a lot to make up for beforehand. I know that I need to work on winning back your faith in me. And I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to be ready to trust me like that again. Right now I know I don’t deserve that trust. I won’t expect anything from you… you know that, right?”

NESSIE

I look up at Jake, finding his eyes with mine. He says he wants to get married, but he says he has a lot to make up for. And I can't argue. He does. And it will take me a while to be completely at ease with him. But it will come. "We'll work through this. Faster than you think," I kiss his cheek. I want us to work. I don't even know if I want to wait to get married. I bite on my bottom lip and then decide to tell him that. "I don't know if I want to wait," I say to him," I want to be with you." But this is partly because I want to make it all official. I don't want anyone to tell me that they can take me away from him. Like my family. "Couldn't we just work through the rest of it after?" I worry again. "Or would that be too much stress on our relationship?" After all planning a wedding is usually high stress. 

I sigh next. "I hate this. Talking about our relationship like it's a project or something. It's just us. We work..." I didn't even know if I was making sense. I just had to know that Jake wasn't leaving me. That he wouldn't change his mind in the middle of the night and take me back to my family and maybe even find a way to break our bond. I shuddered at the thought. I didn't want that. I wanted him. My lips pressed against his lightly.

JACOB

She wants us to be married sooner than I thought, and it’s then that I realise just how insecure I’ve made her. She wants to be sure that I won’t leave, that she won’t lose me again. I’m skeptical at first – a wedding is meant to be a happy event, is it wise to rush when we’re all not quite ourselves? But marriage, I suppose, is supposed to be for better or for worse, and while things may not be in the best of shape right now, maybe this is what we need. A sense of security, of togetherness. 

“If that’s what you want…” I say, brushing my thumb over her cheek. If that’s what she wants then it’s what I want too. Whatever it is. As long as it makes her happy. “We don’t have to make this decision today, right now,” I tell her quietly. After all, neither of us could possibly be in the right frame of mind having just lost a baby, a piece of us. “We’ll work…” But I know it’s going to take more than words for her to believe me now.

I kiss her back, gently, brushing the loose hair away from her face before pulling back to look at her. “I love you, Nessie. I haven’t said it enough… I love you.”


	20. Swallowing My Pride

NESSIE

It had been almost a week now. And I was starting to feel better physically. And better about me and Jake, but the grief was still very strong. The grief over our two losses, though guiltily I had to admit that I held more grief for the baby we had lost, than for Billy now, since Billy's death had now happened months ago. I was feeling like I could handle an actual conversation, so I had decided to call my family, while Jake was out working in the garage. I regretted that decision almost immediately. The phone call was short. My father told me that if I was going to be ungrateful, then until I was ready to do the right thing and leave Jake, until I was willing to accept their help, not to call anymore. I had hung up, feeling more broken than before. 

I looked out the window at Jake working on a car, looking for the first time in a while completely at ease. I didn't want to break that. I tried to call them again. But this time no one answered. And again. And again. And again. I felt tears trailing down my cheeks. That's when I heard his footsteps approaching the door. I quickly wiped my eyes, trying to hide my tears before he got in. When he came in, I forced a huge smile. "Hey, you get it running again?"

JACOB

The last week has, for the most part I think, gone by as well as it possibly could given the circumstances. Nessie’s finally starting to look better and we’ve been together most of the time. The two of us talking, or just drawing comfort from each other’s company. Even the silence is always warm, without all that uneasy tension that had been making this place so stuffy in recent months. But even though we’re feeling better about things, it doesn’t seem to make the loss of our baby any less painful. Still, although I feel the grief, I know she’s taking it much harder than I am. The baby – little William – was, after all, a part of her for those few months and she hadn’t even known it. And the most I can do is be there for her, be that shoulder to cry on and that person to cry with.

Still, I know that’s not the only thing that’s been weighing her down. Deep down, I’m sure she misses her family. I thought that she ought to call them at some point if they didn’t, at least to clear the air between them, but I didn’t want to push her. I wanted to let her do things in her own time. But the fact that they hadn’t yet made a sound since that day has been making me wonder. Are they still not ready to come to support Nessie without making a scene? The fault was, after all, mine. Why are they punishing her for it? In fact, why does punishment need to factor in at all, when Nessie’s the one who is grieving? More than once, I’ve thought about calling them up, to attempt to set things right, at least for Nessie’s sake. But I was afraid that if she found out, she wouldn’t appreciate my going around doing things behind her back, so I decided to hold it off, let things cool over some more.

Today I had someone bring in an old cranky Ford, saying that it’s been huffing and puffing and not working like it used to anymore. So I made sure that Nessie was all right inside before heading into the garage to see what I could do about it. Outside, it doesn’t take me too long to work out what’s wrong, and though this thing is approaching the end of its lifespan, if taken care of I figure it’s still got a few good years in it left. Easy fix, no problem.

Once I’m done, I give my greasy hands a good wipe before heading back inside. She asks about the car and I nod, wiping the sweat off my brow with the back of my arm. “Yup. All set to get back on the–” I stop the moment I see her face. She’s smiling. But I know her too well to be fooled. There are tear tracks running down her pale cheeks and her eyes are watery. “Hey, come here,” I say quietly, even though I’m the one who closes the distance between us before gently placing my hands on her arms. “Don’t pretend, I can see you’ve been crying. I told you to call for me, remember?”

She has had a number of breakdowns out of the blue, but none that I’m aware of in the last day or two. Maybe the tension’s just built up again. But then I realise that she’s sitting next to the phone, and I see again the heartache in her eyes – it’s fresh. “You called them, didn’t you?” I ask, almost dreading to find out what they said to make her so upset all over again.

NESSIE

"Hey, come here." He says, closing the distance between us, and placing his hands on my shoulders. I look up at him with tears in my eyes as he reminds me that he said to call him if I needed him. I nod weakly, as if to tell him that I remembered. But I didn't want to bother him. And I hadn't been sitting here too long. I lean forward until my head is buried in the crook of his neck, taking in his scent, that seems almost enhanced by the salty smell of his sweat. I sigh against his shoulder. When did everything get so hard? And when would it get easier? 

He asked if I called them and I nodded into the crook of his neck. I wasn't sure I wanted to talk about it. I wasn't sure what to say. "They don't want to see me," I whispered so quietly, I was sure that if he didn't have wolf hearing he wouldn't have been able to hear me. "Not unless I leave you." I didn't know if I should include any details. "They still want to break our bond. They think you're dangerous. They insist you're going to hurt me." I wrapped my arms around him tightly. "But I know....I know you won't." I believed in Jake. Above anything else, I believed in Jake. 

I sighed, holding him closer. And then I asked, my voice cracking. "Do you think I'm ungrateful?"

JACOB

I wince when she says that they believe I’m going to hurt her. If they had ever said that before, I could’ve told them without a doubt in my mind that I would never, ever hurt her. But now I have. I have hurt her, and I can’t change that fact. I’ve lost their trust in me to protect their daughter. But surely they wouldn’t go so far as to disown her. Especially now, after she just went through a miscarriage for crying out loud. Could they really be so cruel that they would abandon her?

I hold her closer, since she doesn’t seem to care that I’m sweaty and that I stink. All she wants right now is comfort, warmth. She asks if I think she’s ungrateful, and I wonder again what they said to her. “Of course not, honey,” I tell her gently, stroking her hair. “I’m the one that they’re really upset with, not you.”

I know she’s going to be miserable without their support. I refuse to be the one to stand between her and her family. “Would you like me to go and talk to them?” I ask her, deciding it would be best not to go behind her back, even with good intentions. We need to be open about things – and neglecting that nearly destroyed our relationship once, I won’t let it happen again. “I don’t want you to be cut off from your family like this.”

NESSIE

He says that he doesn't think that I'm ungrateful and I take comfort in that. "You wouldn't lie to me, right?" I say quietly, half joking to him. I am his imprint and I'm not sure if he would say that I wasn't just to make me feel better. I slowly slide off of the couch and into his lap. I want to be closer. So much closer to him. I press as close as I can, before mumbling into his neck. "You're really stuck with me now." But then I laugh softly, knowing that Jake would never see having me around as a burden. 

He asks if I want him to go talk to them, and I consider this for a moment. He's right of course, he is the one they're upset with. But I think that they're upset with me for choosing to be with him. It's almost as if they see Jake as an addiction and they're just giving me tough love right now. Trying to get me to choose my life over the cocaine that might kill me. But it's nothing like that. I kiss him lightly. "I don't want you to go there alone," I whisper to him. I don't trust my family with my Jacob right now at all. "You could call if you like," I say to him, "Or we could both go..." I'm just not sure that anything other than me doing the right thing in their eyes will change anything.

JACOB

“Of course not,” I reply with a smile when she asks for assurance that I wouldn’t lie to her. Well, I suppose saying that I would never lie to her may be a bit of a stretch, but at least when it comes to something like this, I wouldn’t. Besides, I know how much she loves her family and don’t believe she could ever be ungrateful towards them. “Stuck with you, huh? I demand to see my lawyer,” I joke lightly, holding her tighter to emphasise that I’m just jesting with her. What pains me is that the real problem is that she’s torn between having to choose either me or them. And she shouldn’t have to make such a choice. She shouldn’t be made to lose one or the other.

She says that she doesn’t want me to go to see them alone, and though I’m perfectly willing to do it, I know she needs peace of mind right now. Especially when the situation back home would be particularly volatile at the moment. I’m not entirely sure if I like the idea of her coming with me either, in case it doesn’t turn out to be pretty. She’s recovered well enough, but I don’t think she needs to be put through anymore stress than she already has been. At least not yet. “How about I give them a call, and once we’ve… sorted things out a little, I’ll take you home to see them, okay?” I try to sound optimistic, for her sake. She needs her family more than she’s willing to admit aloud right now. And, well, they are her family – they wouldn’t turn her away and keep her out indefinitely… would they?

NESSIE

He says he wants to see his lawyer and I giggle softly. Silly Jake, he wouldn't even see a lawyer if I demanded it of him. But I do believe that I couldn’t ever demand it from him. I look up at him, trying to decide if him talking to my family is really for the best. He probably doesn't really want to. He probably is only offering for me. For my peace of mind. And I know that it's going to be hard for him to take their abuse, to take their insults, to take their painful comments. "Are you sure you want to call them Jake?" I ask him softly. "They won't be kind..." I don't know that I want this pain for him at all. But I do want things to be better with my family.

JACOB

I sigh into her hair. I guess I’m not really looking forward to having to call them. She’s right, they’re going to give me an earful. And I’m going to have to hold my tongue if I want us to get anywhere at all with this reconciliation attempt. But avoiding them isn’t going to do any of us any good. I need to step up and accept responsibility for my actions. “I’ll admit, it’s not going to be easy.” Understatement. “But I can’t go hiding from them, you know? They have every right to upset with me. I caused this mess, and I plan on doing whatever it takes to fix this.” If all they want is to take it out on me for an hour or two, then so be it.

I didn’t get much luck that afternoon, probably because Nessie had only just called. They didn’t answer any of my calls that evening either, and I was starting to get frustrated. What if Nessie really did need them for something urgent? 

I did, however, have better luck the next morning, when Nessie was still in the bedroom sleeping. If you could call it luck, that is, having to talk to them. It wasn’t Cullen, as I’d expected. Or Bella, as I had hoped. It turned out to be Blondie. Great. What the heck was she doing at their place? I’d smacked my forehead silently before taking a deep breath. Before I’d managed to expel it and ask for Bella, she was yelling into the phone at me. Something about my being a filthy dog with no self-respect and no respect for Nessie and if I had any decency I would send her home this second and wouldn’t she love to sink her teeth into my throat, scream scream scream, shout shout shout, shriek shriek shriek, insert several profanities here and there. She’s got a powerful set of lungs, this one. 

And I listened. For Nessie’s sake, I tolerated. Because I knew that even though Blondie annoys the hell out of me, she loves Nessie to bits. I remember, I know. So maybe, just maybe, if there was anyone who might be willing to bridge the gap, it would be her. After she finished yelling, of course. It lasted half an hour. Her screaming and my struggle to keep apologising patiently. “I know, I’m sorry, I was wrong…” It was beginning to get repetitive. I didn’t know what else she expected of me, other than cutting off all ties with the love of my life.

Finally, though, to my surprise, she slowed down. That’s when I took the opportunity to get a few words in. “Listen, Blo–” I want something from her. I clenched my jaw and took a few seconds to swallow my pride. Then I tried again, calling her something I’d never called her before. “Listen, Rosalie…” That managed to shut her up for a while. “I know I slipped up. Big time. And I’m prepared to take all the blame for all that’s happened. It’s my fault, and I am going to spend the rest of my life trying to make up for these sins.” I had to swallow hard to keep myself going. I’ve never bothered being polite with her before. “But don’t punish Nessie for what I did. She needs her family, please don’t make her choose. You know she can’t do that, and you know I can’t leave her either.”

“Which is why we said we’d find a way to break the bond,” she’d said, sounding as if she were speaking through gritted teeth. “So that she’ll be rid of you once and for all.”

I gritted my own teeth. I couldn’t afford to be cocky now. I had to beg. “Bl… R-Rosalie, you need to understand. This isn’t just about the imprint anymore. We love each other. Could you walk away from–” Dammit, what’s her husband’s name again… the big one… “Could you walk away from Emmett?”

“Emmett wouldn’t hurt me the way you hurt Nessie.”

“And you’re not? You’re not hurting her right now, the way all of you are acting?” I demanded, my voice starting to get louder. She kept ignoring my point. I couldn’t help it. And that may have spoiled it all. If she’d been even beginning to see things a little more my way, all that was gone now.

She went on to tell me that it was for her own good. That sooner or later Nessie would have to come around. And then she’d slammed the phone on me and that was that.

So here I am now, sitting by the phone moments after hanging up, my elbow propped up on the table with my mouth pressed against my fist. That sure went well. Now what am I going to do?

NESSIE

I wake up and stretch my arm across the bed to find the other side empty. I cling to the sheets, to the last remnants of sleep. To my dreams where things are good. But I can't lock the day out forever. And the bed doesn't feel the same with the knowledge that Jake isn't in it next to me. I roll over to his side of the bed and breath deeply, enjoying his scent, but I miss his warmth. I miss being near him already and he probably hasn't even been up that long. I climb out of bed slowly and shuffle out to the living room, still in my pajamas. I see him sitting on the couch, his chin resting against his fist and his jaw clenched. He's not happy about something. 

I move to sit next to him. I snuggle up close and then gently run my fingers over his brow, trying to erase his worry lines. "Wanna talk about it?" I ask him quietly. I think he's probably called my parents and not liked the result. And to be honest, I hope that he doesn't want to talk about it. I don't want to talk about it. In fact, I don't know if I even want to talk. Lately I've been kinda wanting to reconnect with him on a physical level. It's been months now. And I think not talking, just being together, might be good for both of us.

JACOB

I’m so distracted that I hardly hear her coming, so I’m taken a little by surprise when she sits down beside me. I lean back as she moves closer, running her fingers over my forehead. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to talk about it. I definitely don’t want to have to tell her about her lovely Aunt Blondie’s reaction to my phone call. It’s not like that would do either of us any good. With a half-defeated sigh, I reach out and touch her cheek gently. But as I look into her eyes, my resolve strengthens again. 

“I’ll find a way to fix this,” I tell her quietly, giving her a small smile. I’m sure she can already guess what’s going on. “We’ll work through this together. You and me.”

NESSIE

I know what's happened. He's called my family. And it's gone just as well as when I called my family. I smiled slightly as I he said what I'd been longing to hear for so many months now. He says that he'll fix this. That we will work this out. Me and him. Now he's got the right idea. I love that he's talking about us again. 

It's been a while since we've even kissed with intentions of more than comfort or a single simple kiss. And now that he sees us as a unit, I long to truly be one with him again. But I'm not sure how he'll take my advances. I don't know if this is a part of our relationship any more. Or if he thinks that it should be again. Maybe he thinks it's too soon. But I feel the need for him. So I lean in and kiss him, not the comforting gentle kisses we've given lately, but a hungry kiss. As my tongue trails along his bottom lip asking for entrance I move myself so that I'm straddling his lap. "I love you, Jake," I whisper to him.

JACOB

This I wasn’t quite expecting. Not with her mood, or at least the general mood that’s been hanging in the air. And certainly not so soon after her miscarriage. But she’s got her lips pressed against mine, almost with a sense of urgency, and I find myself responding, feeling the need for her that I’ve suppressed over the months. “I love you too…” I murmur before running my hand up her back and pressing her closer against me, kissing her more deeply as I feel my whole body ache for her.

But wait. If this is heading in the direction that I think it is, well, the last time we did this, she ended up with a baby. Which we lost. We have to be careful. We can’t go through something like that again, not now, not ever. I pull back slightly, hesitating, but at the same time now that she’s initiated it, I’m finding restraint even harder. My fingers run along the side of her neck. “Ness… think about it first…” 

NESSIE

Jake's kissing me back, matching my own hunger, his hands on my back, pressing me closer to him. I press my hips flush against his. I want to be as close to him as possible. And I don't even care if he's still a little greasy, or already sweaty. I just need him. 

He stops though, pulling away. And for a moment I feel like he's shutting me down. But then I realize what he's worried about. And I can't say that the worry hasn't crossed my mind. But right now, I don't care. Especially not since I've already taken some precautions in that area. I smile at him. "You are so perfect," I say to him quietly. As I just stare at him for a moment in awe, trying to wrap my mind around how I could have gotten so lucky with getting a guy who cared about me so much. 

"Actually," I begin to admit with a sheepish grin. "Rachel thought about that. I told her it was silly, since I wasn't sure when sex would factor into our relationship again. But she said, you never know, sometimes it just sneaks up on ya. And she wanted us to be safe next time, until we were sure we wanted kids." I blushed a little. "She gave me some condoms. So we're good." Now I'm a little babbly because I've embarrassed myself. "Paul says that it doesn't feel as good with one on, which of course started a fight between him and Rachel--so you don't have to use one--I want you to enjoy it as much as I do. But we have some."

JACOB

She’s talking so fast I’m having trouble trying to follow her, but then I realise what she’s saying. She seems so shy and embarrassed about it that I can’t help but chuckle slightly at how cute she’s being. And then she mentions what Paul thinks about condoms and I just burst out laughing. “Paul’s an animal,” I say, shaking my head. But then I pause. Ew. Ew, no, no, I don’t want to know about Rachel’s sex life. Okay, great, thanks, Rachel, for putting this in my head now. “Ugh, weird thought. Bleughhh. I’ll just pretend that they’re not my sister’s leftover condoms,” I joke, making a show of covering my eyes. 

A moment later I’m back to gazing at her again. “Just kidding,” I tell her with a sheepish grin before crushing my lips against hers once more. “C’mon, beautiful, lets… take this… somewhere more… comfortable.” Her lips continue to move in sync with mine, her body pressed so close I swear we’re about to meld into one. With my hands firmly on her back, I lift her up with me and let her wrap her legs around my hips before carrying her back to the bedroom. 

The hell with Blondie.

NESSIE

I giggle slightly at his reaction. Paul is an animal. He's absolutely right. And then he talks about not wanting to think that they were his sister's condoms. And I have to laugh loudly at the look of disgust on his face. Is he really that worried about where they came from? The point is that we can use them. We can be safe. We probably should have been safe the first time. We should've probably had our own condoms. But like Rachel said, it can catch you unaware, take you by surprise. And I'm gonna spare Jake the detailed list of when and where it's caught Rachel and Paul off guard. 

His lips quickly find mine and our lips seem to meld together, like we belong this way. His lips seem so right against mine. He says we should take this somewhere more comfortable and I grin against his lips. When he rises I wrap my legs tightly around his waist as he carries us to his room and he places me gently on the bed. My kisses become hungrier and soon I find them moving from his lips down his neck, tasting the salt of his sweat on his skin. My hands roughly yanking his shirt up, trying to rid him of his clothes.

JACOB

She tugs at my shirt and I happily oblige, throwing it off in one swift motion before working on hers, eager to gain contact with her bare skin. And as we kiss and carry on, everything else, everything else just melts away. In this moment, all I know is that I love her and want her and need her. Just her. All of her.


	21. I Hear the Future Calling

That day it was like we’d found each other again, completely. And as the days went by, our future was starting to look more and more solid, like it was deciding to come back to us. But there was a shadow that still loomed over us, the absence of Nessie’s family in her life. And even though we rarely discussed the issue now, I knew that sooner or later she would long for them, sorely. So a week later when she brought up the subject of marriage again, I tried to slow her down. But at the same time, I was afraid that she might doubt my commitment to her if I pushed too hard.

“Nessie, I know how much you want this, and believe me I do too, but… I really do think we should wait till we’ve patched things up with your family first,” I tell her, trying to give her my honest opinion while still being as gentle as I can. I know the subject is a sore spot for her. “You may not see it now, but you’re going to want them there. Don’t be rash and jump into this on a whim… They’re your family, Ness.”

NESSIE

He says that he thinks I'll regret this decision later. And the honest truth is that I know I will. But how long are we supposed to wait for my parents to come around? It could take them an eternity. Literally. And I suppose that we have an eternity to wait. Literally. But I don't want to. I don't want to have to put my life on hold for that long for them. We could always renew our vows when they felt like coming around. 

I look over at Jake. "Jake, it's been months. And they haven't come around. They haven't changed their minds. Are we supposed to wait forever for them to come around? What if they never come around, then does that mean we never get married?" I paused for a moment. "Of course in an ideal world I would love for them to be there. I would love to have my father give me away. And for Alice to help with the planning. She can throw a beautiful wedding." I reached out and took his hand into mine. "Maybe this is something they're just going to have to live with missing. We’ll invite them of course. And I would hope they would come at the last minute. But we can't put our whole lives on hold until they do come around." 

Now I was a little unsure. Maybe he wanted to wait for some reason. "I mean you don't wanna have to wait possible centuries, do you? And if they change their mind about my being in their lives later, maybe we could renew our vows or something." Try to have a wedding they would be involved in. "Like how Rosalie and Emmett get married every generation." I chuckled softly at the look on his face. He obviously didn't want to be getting married every generation. And neither did I. I was just making a point. This didn't have to be our only wedding.

JACOB

I have to admit that I’m still a little skeptical. Sure, we can always renew our vows later, find some way of including them once they decide to come around. Once they do, because they’re going to have to sooner or later. But this time is not going to be like all the others, God forbid that we ever have to get married every generation. Does she really want to do this without them? But then again, she’s right. We could wait forever, but why should we? Our wedding, our marriage is supposed to be about us, not them. 

“Only if you’re sure,” I tell her with a smile as I reach out to stroke the back of her hand. “But… in the meantime, let me keep trying, okay? Who knows, by some crazy miracle I might be able to get Blondie to submit to my wolfish charm,” I joke, rolling my eyes. Yeah, right.

But I don’t want to carry on any further on the topic of her family. What else is there to say or do at this point, but try and hope? I try and lighten the mood, eager to get us into a more relaxed discussion. “So, come on, tell me… do you have anything in mind already for the wedding, for what we should do, what you’d like?” I lean back into the seat, giving a theatrical “Hmmm….”. Planning weddings? Sure, I want ours to be perfect, especially knowing how much this would mean to her. But honestly? Not really in my line of experience here… “I guess exchanging vows would be a good start...”

NESSIE

He finally agrees with me. And I can't help but smile. I want to be with him, in every way, officially, so badly. And now I can. I can officially start planning. Then he says he'll keep trying with my family, and I can't help but look at him with so much love and admiration as I nod in agreeance. 

And then he continued on to talk about the wedding. And I giggled. Did he really want to help plan it? It just didn't seem his thing. But then again, I knew he would do anything for me. And he probably did want to ensure that this event would be perfect. I loved him for that. I gave him a light kiss on the lips. "Vows would be good. Would you want to do the usual or write our own?" I asked him curiously. Then I continued. "I was thinking we could get married on the beach..." I trailed off.

JACOB

Vows, huh? Somehow going with the usual seems a little… well, inappropriate for us. I can’t really see Nessie and I going with the standard, generic insert-name-here. “I think we should write our own,” I reply. And then pause for a moment before slapping my forehead comically. “Oh crap, that means I’ll actually have to write one…” I lean in and kiss her back lightly. “Mmm… can do.”

Then she suggests getting married on the beach, and I can’t think of a better place. Just like how it felt like the best and only place to propose. “The beach sounds perfect. Can we go skinny-dipping afterwards?” I grin sheepishly before turning it down a notch in case she started thinking that I’m not taking this seriously. “Anyway, I don’t know if I’m much good at… you know, party-planning stuff. But I’m sure if you needed like, female input or something, Rachel would be happy to help with things.” I know that normally it would be the little one with the short dark hair that would be jumping at the opportunity to help organise things, but given the circumstances, I guess Nessie might have to settle for something less than the usual extravagant Cullen taste.

NESSIE

I laugh at his antics. I would never for a second believe that he didn't take this seriously. I knew he did. I knew he wanted this. Has for a long time. And honestly his jokes make me feel better about doing all of this without my parents, my family, without Alice to plan it. He said we should write our own and I grin. "My vows will be better than yours," I tease him lightly before placing my hand over his. 

When he asks if we can go skinny dipping afterwards, I just smirk at him and say, "If you play your cards right." the look of shock on his face is worth the comment. I nod when he says Rachel would probably help me. "Yeah," I agree with him, "I'm sure Rachel would be more than happy to help. And maybe Emily." Kim had never really warmed up to me. She had accepted that I was part of the pack family, but she still was afraid of me because I was part vampire. And I guess I couldn't blame her for that. 

I bit my bottom lip. The only thing was, that there was no one to give me away. "I'm gonna call Charlie soon," I say to him. "Ask him if he'll give me away." I try to grin. "He's always wanted to give you one of his girls anyway."

JACOB

If I play my cards right, huh? Didn’t see that one coming, but hey, I’m not complaining. She then mentions Emily and I think it’s a great idea. Emily has always been like a big sister to the rest of us, or rather, more like a mother hen. I’m sure she would love to be included in things, and I can’t imagine not having her be a part of something this important to us anyway. 

And then she mentions Charlie and I smile. He is the obvious choice after all. "He's always wanted to give you one of his girls anyway," she teases. I give a snort. There was a time when Nessie was jealous of Bella, of the fact that I’d loved her. But we got past that, and it’s nice to know that she can even joke about it now. Or at least, attempt to. I know it hurts that it may not be her own father giving her away.

“I think that’s a great idea,” I tell her warmly. Well, I guess then I won’t have to worry about getting poisoned on my wedding day. But jokes aside, I would risk even that if it made Nessie happy. I try to cheer her up, keep her mind off the negatives for at least the time being. “So… does this mean I have to wear a suit?” I ask her, scratching my head skeptically. I roll my eyes. She knows how good I am with the necktie. 

NESSIE

He says that he thinks Charlie is a perfect choice and I can't help but smile. I know he'll be a little confused, but pleased to do it nonetheless. It feels a little bit like maybe a wedding with just the family who will come might be okay after all. Like it isn't a complete tragedy that the family I used to be so close with won't come. But I know that that is just how I feel now. This feeling will probably change. 

Then Jake asks if this means he has to wear a suit. And normally at this point I would correct him and say he had to wear a tux. Alice wouldn't have it any other way. But Alice won't be planning this. I will be. And if my family isn't involved in any way, we don't really have the money for anything too fancy. It just isn't feasible. So I think the attire will be more relaxed. But I'm not letting him get away with marrying me in jeans and a T-shirt. Or his cut offs. A suit for him and a dress for me. That's the only way that I can see it happening. "Of course you'll have to wear a suit," I say with a small laugh. "That would be like me asking you if I needed to wear a dress." I roll my eyes playfully at his obvious cluelessness. "But you'll need to pick a best man or a groomsman who knows how to tie a tie," I tease him. "Because it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding."

JACOB

“Oh, you don’t have to wear a dress…” I trail off suggestively. “I mean, a beach wedding? You could wear one of those sarong things. Or a bikini,” I tease her, giving her a look of mock innocence. Before she can stomp on my foot or something, I give in, planting a quick kiss on her lips. “Okay, okay, kidding. Always love seeing you in a nice dress. Then again, you’d look gorgeous in anything.” She would. Anything at all. She could wear a brown paper bag for all I care. But of course I wouldn’t expect her to wear that to her own wedding.

When she teases me about my excellent necktie-tying skills, I give a smirk. “My best man’s most likely to be one of the pack guys,” I point out to her. I mean, that’s pretty obvious. “You tell me, which one of us really knows how to tie a tie?”

NESSIE

He teases that I don't have to wear a dress. And though I both grin and blush, loving the fact that he wants to see me in all sorts of skin bearing clothing, I still roll my eyes. He kisses me on the lips and tells me that he's kidding. That he always loves seeing me in a nice dress. That I would look good in anything. I grin and shake my head. "You've got it bad don't you?" I tease him. I know he does. But I know that I have it just as bad as he does. I mean if he showed up that day in board shorts and nothing else, I'd still walk down the aisle and marry him. I'd be helpless to do much of anything else. 

Then he talks about the tie. And I laugh. He has a point. "Maybe Quil?" I suggest. He does after all not have an imprint who knows how to do that for him yet. I shrug. "If none of the boys know how, maybe Rachel or Kim will?" I know Rachel will probably be my maid of honor. I'm not sure if I should include Kim. I don't want to exclude her. But I know I make her uncomfortable. I'm not sure she'd want to be included. So she might be free. 

I look at him. "Are you including all of the pack in your wedding party?" I asked, a little unsure that I knew enough girls to give them each someone to walk down the aisle with. Maybe I could invite college friends. I was still friends with Marissa from high school. And had made some new friends recently. But they just didn't seem as close as either of my families.

JACOB

Heck yeah I’ve got it bad. I roll my eyes. And doesn’t she know it? I’ve had it bad for ages. I grin when she suggests Quil. I guess if there’s one guy who can, it’ll probably be him. “Oh don’t worry, we’ll figure it out somehow. I promise, I won’t embarrass my lovely bride,” I tell her with a wink. “Well… I’ll try not to at least.”

She asks about including all of the pack. That’s a pretty good question. “I don’t think so.” I shake my head slightly, finding it a little hard to imagine. I mean, they’d be invited and all, but just not, uh… “Not in the actual…” I twiddle my fingers, trying to find the word for it. “…you know, thing.” Best I could come up with. I’ve never been married before, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to know these things. “Would you mind, if we kept things simple?” 

I know she’s used to the more fancy, lavish, Cullen lifestyle. But even though she never seems to mind that I can’t really give her that, and I know she’s not the materialistic sort, this is, after all, going to be her wedding. Yeah, of course it’s about us, the two of us. But at the same time, doesn’t every girl want the perfect wedding? I don’t want her to feel like she’s going to be missing out on something.

NESSIE

He says that he's not planning on including them in the wedding party and I can't help but feel relieved. I nod. "Well let me know who you're thinking of including, so I can find them someone to walk down the aisle with." It's mostly teasing. A lot of the wolves I think that he'll include have imprints already. Or like Embry would be willing to walk down the aisle with whoever and just make the best of it. 

He asks if we can keep it simple. And though I was planning on it because of money restraints. Now that I hear the tinge of worry in his voice, I know it's the right decision. and it makes simple seem best. Simple but elegant seems more like me and Jake. It seems more fitting. And I wouldn't have it any other way. I want him to be happy and comfortable too. I smile at him and nod. "Simple is good. But just because it's simple doesn't mean it can be cheesy or too casual," I warn him. I slide into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. "All that's really important to me is that I get to marry you."

JACOB

She warns me that simple doesn’t mean it can be cheesy or too casual. I slap my fist into the palm of my other hand. “Darn! I was hoping you wouldn’t say that,” I tease. But to be honest I’m relieved, relieved that she’s okay with simple. And glad to know that she feels the same way, that the important thing is that we’re going to be married. “Mmm… that’s what’s important to me as well.” I wrap an arm around her waist as I pull her in for a kiss. After a moment I pull back slightly. “And that too.”


End file.
